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IN THE TRENCHES 



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«n*»v»iaWT ««•© J»v WALTER M 9AKRR S CiO 



I A. W. PINERO'S PLAYSJ 

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>AW p.r,^.v5 P"^\'«f' o" «^ t^e plays Of this popular author, made feasible by the ne^y txS 

/1\ ^"Py^g^* Act under which his valuable stage rights can be fully protected >Iv 

i!; «"a^l««,»%to offer to amateur actors a series of modern pieces of the highest W 

i\X class, all of which have met with distinguished success in the leading English >ii 

W and American theatres, and most of which are singularly, well adapted for ama /IX 

>|V tear performance. This pub ication was originally intended for the benefit of A 

W readers only but the increasing demand for the pfays for acting purposes has /ft 

/i\ *^^0"t':"n their merely literary success. With the idea of placU.g this excel- ilv 

W ent series within the reach of the largest possible number of amatlur clubs, Nx^e /ft 

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^^ THE AMAZONS. [ V%'^.^°lS^S\^2'-lt^^ tltZ''-^. f 

:x: I acters. Costumes, modern; scenerv an exterior wm\ 

<k'M and an interior, not at all difficult. Tliis admirable farce is too well known ^'i** 

Vf through its recent performance by the Lyceum Theatre Company, New York to M/ 

need description. It is especially recommended to young ladies' schools and 2V'm 



W 

Xff colleges. (1895.) 

\\f THE CABINET MINISTER. | i J-,^"p,^- .^J^„ ,„By 



\l/ r< * , ' and nine female characteTs^ kTAU 

Wf Costumes, modern society ; scenery, three interiors. A very amusing piece, in- \f/ 
y gemous in construction, and brilliant in dialogue. (1892.) s P c^.c, m v^ 



DANDY DIQC I ^ ^^^^^ I" P^«? ^«ts- ^y Arthur W. Pixero. 

I Seven male, four female characters. Costumes niod- 

~~^ ern; scenery, two interiors. This very amusine niece 

was another success in the New York and Boston theatres, and has bein ex- 
tensively played from manuscript by amateurs, for whom it is in every resnect 
suited. It provides an unusual number of capital character parts, is very f uiinv 
and an excellent acting piece. Plays two hours and a half. (1893 ) •>"'•'' 






THE HOBBY HORSE J ^comedy in Three Acts. By Arthdb 

_^ I >^;PrNERo. Ten male, fi%'e female char- «n 

fJITZ I \ Z^. acters. Scenery, two interiors and an ex- ?Y'm 

tenor ; costumes, modern. This piece is best known in this country throueh the W 

ad.mrable performance of Mr John Hare, who produced it in all the pr Scipal JK 

t ..c.^^'i^K^'^P'''''*^.*',,'' clever satire of false philanthropy, and is f ul of W 

iterest and humor. Well adapted for amateurs, by whom itSxj^ been success. 3l- 

^,r .Jlly acted. Plays two hours and a half. (1892.) i^aias ueen success- »i^ 

W'g LADY BOUNTIFUL. I i ^^^y in. Four Acts. By Arthur W. 
W —^ I PiNERO. Eight male and seven female char- 



s» 






I IN THE TRENCHES 



! 



A DRAMA OF THE CUBAN WAR 



IN THREE ACTS 



By ABEL SEAMAN 

AUTHOR OF "BEHIND THE BARS," "HIS ONLY SON," "THE LATEST 
SCANDAL," ETC. 



BOSTON 



^^.^.^^x4f><:^^^<^ 



^ 1898 

\ 



^^\1J^ 



CA 



55 1^ 




IN THE TRENCHES. 



I /'99*X!HARACTERS. 



Colonel Edwards, a hero of Santiago. 

John Davis, a New York capitalist. 

Patrick Green, known as " Pea Green," of the firm of Biilllieiuicr 

and Green, army contractors and general speculators. 
Moses Bullheimer, his partner. 
Paul Davis, afraid of everything but danger. 
Jose Estrada, a Spanish prisoner. 
Private Murphy, an American citizen. 
'Rastus Cricket, another one— colored. 
Madame Valdoza, a wealthy Cuban widow. 
Nadina, her daughter and heiress. 
Rebecca Bullheimer, in pursuit of a husband, — this time her oiun. 

Soldiers, Spanish and American, Cuban Refugees, etc., ad libitum 
for tableaux. 




Copyright, i: 



BY Walter H. Baker & Co. 



1 



\> 




IN THE TRENCHES. 



ACT I. 

Scene. — A handso7ne interior. Doors R. and l.. Large win- 
dow c. in Jlat, overlooking street. Chair K.\ chair and table 
L. ; other furniture ad libitum, accordiiig to taste and cir- 
cumstances. Davis discovered, readifig a newspaper. 

Dav. {reading, l. chair). So, more troops ordered out to 
Cuba. Eh! What's this .? {Reads.^ " Will embark, and sail 
from New York on the twenty-eighth." That's to-day. Why, the 
loth are going, my friend Colonel Edwards' regiment — more 
slaughter — more American blood to be shed. 

Enter Cricket, l. ; card on salver. 



Cric. 
sah. 
Dav. 
Cric. 
Dav. 



Kunnel Edwards, sah, request de felic'ty for to see you, 



Show him up. 

Yas, sah. [Exit L. 

Ah ! Twenty years of age, when I was in Cuba, I 
little thought it would some day become a graveyard for my 
fellow countrymen. 

Enter Colonel Edwards,//^// regimentals, from l. 

Col. Ah ! Davis, how do you do } I suppose you have 
heard the news ? 

Dav. {shaking hands). Just reading it — so you are going to 
active service. Colonel ? 

Col. Yes, at the head of the brave fellows I have the honor 
to command, and the finest regiment in the country, sir, or out 
of it ; we sail to-day and — ha ! ha ! ha ! — and if we don't give the 
Spaniards a dressing, say that I've made a mistake, and it will 
be the first I ever did make. 

Dav. {sits, R. C). You never make mistakes, eh, Colonel ? 

Col. {sits, l. c). Never, sir, never made a mistake in my life. 
But I've called to say good-bye, and to ask you, as an old friend, 

3 



4 IN THE TRE.NXHES. 

to take charge of this packet for me, and if I fall, I want you to 
break the seal, read the contents, and act upon them. 

Dav. But your lawyer ? 

Col. I have no lawyer. I hate a lawyer almost as I do a 
Spaniard. 

Dav. But why hate the Spaniards so ? 

Col. Why, now, look you, Davis, I think that you are 
an honest man, and as I am never wTong, you may take my 
word for it. You are, now don't deny it — I've said you are, and 
you are. You ask me why I hate the Spaniards, and hang it, 
sir, I'll tell you. When I was a young man I held a commission 
under the Spanish Government to conduct some engineering 
operations in Cuba. I wns introduced to the house of the Gov- 
ernor-General, and being a good-looking fellow — — 

Dav. Then ! 

Col. Then ! Yes. I soon made my way into the best 
society. Among my acquaintances was a certain Spanish noble- 
man, of high rank, with whose daughter I fell in love, and who 
returned my affection. 

Dav. You were fortunate. 

Col. Was I ? You shall judge for yourself. We were both 
aware that her father would refuse his consent to our marriage. 

Dav. Well ; and what did you do ? 

Col. Did without it. We were secretly married. And for 
six months I thought I was in Heaven, only to awaken one 
morning to find myself in the other place ; for my wife's mother 
discovered our marriage, and I was sent to prison, 

Dav. You ? an American ? 

Col. Yes. For I was made the victim of a trumped-up 
charge. I will not describe to you my sufferings at the hands 
of these Spanish devils ; how I was starved and tortured, till 
the limit of human endurance was nearly reached. But terrible 
as were my sufferings, I could have borne them with a stout 
heart, but for the bitter knowledge that the wife I so loved, the 
wife for whom I would have died a thousand times, was the 
author of my misfortune. [Crosses, R., a^ici back to L. 

Dav. Your wife ? Surely you are mistaken ! 

Col. No ; for a letter in that packet placed it beyond a 
doubt. Tired of her lover, regretting a husband who was a bar 
to her ambition, she obtained the annulment of our marriage 
and my condemnation. 

Dav. But how did you obtain your freedom ? 

Col. In company with two others, we made a desperate at- 
tempt to escape. My two companions were killed, and I alone 
succeeded. And after tortures, the recollection of which even 
now will make me shudder, I at length reached home again. 

Dav. Where, of course, you obtained redress ? 



IN THE TRENCHES. 5 

Col. Where, of course, I obtained nothing- of the kind. I tried 
hard, but in vain, for then, as now, the principal commodity m 
a Government office was red tape. And now that we are 
ordered out to Cuba, can you wonder that I rejoice ? Can 
you wonder that the bare thought of charging into the midst 
of their savage hordes, and dealing out defeat and death, 
tires every energy of heart and soul, and makes me young 
again ? 

Dav. When do you embark ? 

Col. To-day. You will take charge of the packet, Davis, 
and keep it as a sacred trust ; and if I should fall in the campaign, 
you will undertake my responsibilities ? 

Dav. I promise you. 

[Shakes hands. Noise of laughter outside ; Davis 
goes up, c. 

Col. Who's that ? 

Day. {looking out window to L.). My son and two lady 
friends of his ; they are coming here. 

Col. Ladies ! I'm off — I'm noiadies' man. 

Dav. {crossing, L.). Well, come into my snuggery and have 
a glass of wine. 

Col. Who are the ladies ? 

Dav. Well ! ahem — a Spanish lady and her daughter. 

Col. Spanish ! Confound it ! it's bad enough to be a woman, 
but a Spanish woman ■ 

Dav. Shall I introduce you ? 

Col. Introduce vie? No. But how is it Paul is not with 
his regiment ? 

Dav. Because he resigned his commission, directly this 
Cuban war was talked of. 

Col. Resigned ! That looks like cowardice. 

Dav. His excuse is that he doesn't like the drilling, and 
hates the fighting. 

Col. The covk^ard ! 

Dav. But the fact is, he is in love with this Spanish girl — 
who hasn't a penny, I am told — and has actually refused to 
marry my friend Milford's daughter, who has sixty thousand 
dollars. I think I am justly angry with him, but come indoors. 

\Laiig liter outside. 

Col. It's bad enough to hate fighting — but to love a Span- 
iard — hang it ! Come in or I shall lose my temper. 

[Exit, R., witJi Davis. 

Enter Paul, %vith Madame Valdoza and Nadina, 
laughing, L. 

Mad. V. And you pretend you are a coward ? 

Paul. I confess it — I have not the courage of a mouse. 



6 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ 

Mad. V. And you have resigned youu commission. What 
did your father say ? 

Paul. A great deal. 

Mad. V. Complimentary, of otherwise? 

Paul. Oh, otherwise. 

Nad. Oh ! you are no coward. 

Paul. How do you know ? 

Nad. Because no woman could love a coward. 

Paul. Do you love me ? 

Nad. No, no, but if you are a coward — why, just now, 
when the sudden squall nearly capsized our yacht, you acted 
with a coolness, courage, and presence of mind that saved 
our lives. 

Paul. That wasn't courage — it was the fear of an accident. 
I am too fond of living to lose my life. 

Nad. Yes. but wdien my horse took fright, and was gallop- 
ing over the cliffs, and you, at the risk of your being trampled 
to death, seized and stayed him, you did not seem to prize your 
life much then. 

Paul. Because my life without yours would be valueless. 
I am fond of life, because I am young — have health and hope ; 
I love the broad and open sea — the green fields — the v/aving 
trees — the broad expanse of sky and breezy air. The world 
with me is filled with life and beauty, but without you its light 
and sunshine would be gone. 

[Mad, V. lip stage, L., drops down, R. 

Mad. V. Ahem ! Where is your father, Mr. Davis ? 

Paul. I will fetch him for a reward. 

Nad. And what is that 1 

Paul. That rosebud. 

Nad. It is yours. {Gives it.) You will not give it away ? 

Paul. No. 

Nad. Nor exchange it ? 

Paul. Only for one thing on earth more precious. 

Nad. And what is that ? 

Paul. Yourself. [Exit, R. 

Mad. V. Nadina 1 That man loves you. 

Nad. Does he ? 

Mad. V. You know he does. 

Nad. I know something more. 

Mad. V. And what is that ? 

Nad. I love him. 

Mad. V. Nadina ! Be warned in time — such an attachment 
cannot but lead to disappointment and unhappiness. 

Nad. But why ? 

Mad. V. Mr. Davis tells me that he is to marry Miss Mil- 
ford, an heiress with sixtv thousand dollars. 



IN THE TRENCHES. *J 

Nad. And Paul tells me he would not marry her if she had 
ten times sixty thousand dollars. 

Mad. V. Nadina ! Have you ever had to doubt my desire 
^for your welfare, my love for you ? 
^^^I^A Never ! never ! 

^^^^n. V. Then for reasons which you some day may learn, 
^^^ any growing attachment for Paul Davis ere it be too late. 
Nad. I'm afraid it is too late. 

Re-enter Paul luiih Mr. Davis, from r. 

Dav. {shaking hands). Delighted to see you — this is 
indeed a pleasure. \^Crossing, c. 

Mad. V. It v/ill be a last one, Mr. Davis, for we have come 
to say good-bye. In a few days we shall return to Cuba. 

Paul. Impossible ! The war. 

Mad. V. {crosses, r. C). Your countrymen, Mr. Davis, do 
not war with women. 

Dav. But the danger ? 

Mad. V. {looking at Nadina and Paul). There may be 
greater danger if we remain. 

Dav. {aside ; goes tip, R.). I can see her motive. 

Paul {aside to Nadina). I must pack up my things. 

Nad. You — what for ? 

Paul. To go to Cuba. 

Nad. To Cuba ! — why ? 

Paul. Because you are going. 

Enter Cricket, l. 

Cric. Dey is two gemmun at de front door as wants to see 
Missy Valdoza. "One is a for'n gemmun, an' de other's Irish. 

Mad. V. To see me 1 Strange ! 

Cric. Dey say dey took de liberty ob coming here after you, 
'cos deir business was 'portant. 

Dav. Then see them here. {To Cricket.) Admit them. 

Cric. Yas, sah. [Exit, l. 

Dav. {to Nadina and Paul). Will you walk round the 
garden with me, while your mother sees these gentlemen ? 

Nad. With pleasure. 

Dav. This way. [Exit, R. 

Paul {taking Nadina 's arjn). I prefer this. [Exit, l. 

Enter Green and Bullheimer, l. ; they bow to Nadina as 
she goes off. 

Green. A foine gurl ! 

Bull. Hang the girl ! 

Green. Hang the girl ! Hang yourself. 

Bull. I von't hang myself. 



8 IN THE TRENCHES. , 

Green. Worse luck ! 

Bull. Ish dot so ? 

Green. Ves. But I forgive you. {Offers hajtd.) Shake ! 

Bull. I accept your abolog-y. 

[^They shake hands, and come down^ 

Green. I ax your pardon, ma'am, for this intrusion. 

Mad. V. Your business, sir ? 

Green. My business — I may say, our business, for we are the 
firm of BuUheimer and Green 

Bull. Contractors und financial agents. 

Green. And moy business is joost this. A Mr. Manuel 
Romero 

Mad. V. My brother ! 

Green. Has a large estate in Eastern Cuba which he wishes 
to sell, and which moy partner and mesilf intend to buy ; and 
we wish to know from you if he has the roight to do so. 

Mad. V. If I understand you rightly, my brother, Manuel 
Romero, has offered to sell the Romero estate, and you are 
likely to become its purchasers ? 

Green. Yis, ma'am. That's what. 

Bull. But before ve buy, of course ve vant to inqvire into 
the title. Now here is a copy of the vill of your fader — 
a strange vill. 

Green. A moighty strange will. He must have been • 

Bull. Out of his filbert. 

Green. The gintleman manes — off his nut. 

Mad. V. {crossing, L.). My brother has no right to sell the 
Romero estate, for it is the property of my child. 

Bull. But by this vill your fader bequeaths the estate to 
your child, should it be a son ; but it a daughter, the property 
reverts to your bruder. You haf but von child. 

Mad. V. You are right, sir. 

Bull. That is a daughter. Conseqvently, the property goes 
to your bruder. 

Mad. V. No, sir, but to my son. 

Green. A son ! Ye have but wan child, and that is a 
daughter. How can ye have a son ? 

Mad. V. {crosses, C). Listen to me, sir. You would pur- 
chase this estate, and it is only an act of common justice to tell 
you why I dispute my brother's right to it. 

Green. Roight you are, ma'am. 

Mad. V. When but a mere girl, I was married to a young 
American, but without the consent or knowledge of my family. 
That marriage was discovered, and by the influence of my 
mother, my husband was separated from me, and died a few 
months afterwards. Shortly before the birth of my child, my 
father was seized with a mortal illness, and upon his death-bed 



IN THE TRENCHES. 9 

sent for and forgave me. He died in my arms, leaving the will 
to which you allude, bequeathing the estate to my child, should 
it prove a male, and to my brother should it prove a female. 
A few weeks after, the child was born. 

Green. I see — a female gurrl 1 

Mad. V. No, sir, a boy — and the just and rightful heir to 
the Romero estate. 

Green. But how can a boy in Spain be a gurrl in America ? 

Mad. V. Because, sir, that young lady is only my adopted 
daughter. I am very reluctant to speak upon the subject, but 
my duty compels me. Now, sir, when my child was born, I 
knew that my brother intended to destroy its life if a boy ; and 
when it proved to be a son, to save its life I caused it to be 
changed with that of ^friend's, who gave birth to a female child 
at about the same time. \^Crossi)ig, L. 

Bull, {aside to Green). Just vot ve were told. Ve must be 
careful. 

Green. But your son — where is he now ? Is he living or 
did ? If living, the eshtate is his ; if did, your brother can 
sill the property to us. 

Mad. V. With the necessary proof of his identity, he was 
confided to a Spaniard, named Jose Estrada, who, however, 
most shamefully betrayed his trust. 

Green. And killed the child .? 

Mad. V. Such, I believe, was his intention ; but I have dis- 
covered that my boy was saved, and brought to America. 

Green. But, begorra, where is he ? 

Mad. V. That I have to discover. But I have told you suffi- 
cient ; and I warn you that if you purchase this property, it will 
be at your own risk. Good-morning. [Bows, and exit, R. 

Green. Bull, me frind, what shall we do ? 

Bull. V^ait, and keep our eyes open. The estate is a fine 
property which Romero sells, firstly, because his title to it isn't 
good, and secondly, because it is near the seat of war. 

Green. Oh ! If we can only find out for sure if this child is 
did or alive, there is a splendid fortune for us. 

Bull. Yes. How can we find out ? 

Green. I say, if 

Bull. And I say, how ? 

[This is worked np, repeated to climax. They appear 
about to strike each other and then shake hands. Same 
business throtigh drama. 

Green. Oh, go to the divil ! 

Bull. Hush ! Some one coming. 

Green. Who is it ? 

Bull. It's the young lady. 

Green. W^ho is that with her ? 



Adhere ? 




The more I run 


away from her, the 




[Exit, R. I E. 



10 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ 

Bull. Young Davis, her sweetheart, I suppose. 

Green. Ah ! She makes me heart jump. Oh, if she was 
mine ! I — quick, here, into this room. 

Bull. And keep our eyes and ears open 

Green. — loike a couple of damned spies. 

Bull. By chiminy ! I vos no spy ! 

Green. Oh, yis ye are. But I forgiv^e ye. Shake ! 

Bull. I accept your abology. {They shake hands. 

Green {as they are going, R.). Ah ! There's the gurrl that 
I love. 

Bull, {looking off, C. to L.). Und there is the voman that I 
fear — my vife. 

Green. Your v/ife ? 

Bull. Coming here, 
harder she runs after me. 

Green, Ah ! The woman that I love ! 

Enter Mrs. Bullheimer, l. 
Green. Fat, fair, and forty ! [Exit, R. i E. 

Mrs, Bullheimer, coming down with Cricket. 

Mrs. B. Is my husband a phantom ? Here I have come all 
the way from Milwaukee to New York. I could have sworn I 
saw him, and he slips through my fingers like an eel. Here's 
half a dollar for you. Where's Mr. Bullheimer 1 

Cric. Well, you see, missy, I can't prezakly tell you where 
he is, 'cos I don't know — and any further information is a extra 
charge, 

Mrs. B. Here is a quarter. 

Cric. What you want him for ? 

Mrs. B. What does a woman want her husband for ? He's 
run away and left me, and a beautiful home in Milwaukee, with 
the rent unpaid, the bills to pay, the gas and the water cut off. 

Cric. Den I should cut off, too, 

Mrs. B. But I'd forgive him everything, if he didn't pretend 
that I was false to him. 

Cric. Did he now ? But really I can't spare time to listen 
— I want to see the sogers, and 

Mrs. B. Here's another quarter. 

Cric. Thank you, missy. 

Mrs. B. Yes, he came home tipsy at three o'clock in the 
morning, drank up every drop of liquor in the house, broke up 
the furniture, and accused me of having — of having 

Cric. Got tipsy you'self ? 

Mrs. B. No ! Of having been too friendly with the plumber 

— but it's false, and if I find him, I'll Who's in that room ? 

{Pointing R. i E. 



IN THE TRENCHES. H 

Cric. Nobody, missy, nobody. 

Mrs. B. Here's a half-dollar to tell me where my husband is. 
[As Mrs. Bullheimer's dac^ is turned, Bullheimer 
appears at R. i E., and holds up two half-dollars. 

Cric. Right ! I ain't seen you' husband. (Bullheimer 
points off L.) But if you come with me dis way, you'll find 
him, 

Mrs. B. I mean to. 

Cric Dis way. 

Mrs. B. I will ; if I go to the wilds of Russia, the plains of 
South America, go up the North Pole, or down the steppes of 
Tartary, I'll find him, and when I do, I'll — I'll 

Cric. What ? 

Mrs. B. What ? Are you a married man ? 

Cric. No, missy. 

Mrs. B. Then I'd rather not tell you. 

[Exit, L. Cricket turns and takes two 
half-dollars from Bullheimer. 

Cric. Thank you, sah. 

Bull. Tell her you think I've gone to Jericho, or Kams- 
chatka. 

Cric. Right you are, massa. [Exit, l. 

Paul and Nadina enter nr/n in arm, L. i e. ; Nadina 
sits, R. chair; Paul leans over her. 

Nad. And you would follow me to Cuba ? 

Paul. Aye ! and to the end of the world. Nadina, don't go 
back to Cuba, stay in America and become my wife. 

Nad. Your wife ? 

Paul. Yes, my wife, for I love you — love you more than it is 
in words to express. You have brought the light and sunshine 
in my life, and the most waste and barren spot in all the world 
would be a paradise if shared with you. 

Nad. How — how shall I answer you ? 

Paul. By saying, yes ! 

Nad. I dare not ; my mother has warned me. 

{Mitsic ; piano. 

Paul. Warned you of what ? 

Nad. I scarcely know. There is some mystery, but I know 
her never-failing tenderness and love, and it is my duty to con- 
sult her before I answer you. 

Paul. Be it so, but 1 could not bear to hear you answer no. 
See, here is the rose you gave me ; if you will stay, if you will 
become my wife, tell me I may keep it ; but if you are to crush 
the dearest and the highest hopes I have, ask me for the rose 
back again. 

Nad. I will, and within the hour. 



12 IN THE TRENCHES, 

Paul. But will you not tell me, if the answer rested alone 
with you, could you love me ? 

Nad. Paul, I 

Dav. {entering, R.). Signora, your mamma is asking for you. 

Nad. Where is she, sir ? 

Dav. In the drawing-room. 

Nad. 1 will go to her. [Paul starts to follow. 

Dav. A moment, young gentleman. I wish to speak to you. 

[Paul leads her to D. R. 

Paul [aside to her). Remember the rose. 

[Exit Nadina, r. 

Dav. Now, young gentleman, you are falling in love with 
that young lady. 

Paul. No, father, I am not. I have fallen, and so deep that 
I can never get out again. 

Dav. But you will have to. 

Paul. Impossible ! 

Dav. Not when I command you .'' 

Paul. Pardon me, father, but in the choice of a wife every 
man has a right to judge for himself. 

Dav. You have dared to resign your commission, and can 
expect nothing from me ; and you have also dared to refuse to 
marry the lady 1 intended for you, who has sixty thousand 
dollars. 

Paul. Sir ! I love Nadina. 

Dav. Confound it ! You will at once give up all hopes of 
this lady, if you are an honest man. 

Paul. If I am an honest man ? I am an honest man. 

Dav. Do you think it honest to marry a woman under false 
pretences? To find out afterwards that you are a penniless, 
nameless man. 

Paul. Father ! 

Dav. Do as I wish, and you remain a gentleman. Refuse, 
and you become a beggar. Now, one word. Will you give 
her up ? 

Paul. No ! 

Dav. Then my duty as a gentleman forces me to tell you — 
to prevent you deceiving this lady — that the name you bear, the 
position you hold, you have no right to. You are not my son 
at all. [Alusic cojt tinned. 

Paul. Not your son ? 

Dav. No, sir ; but the son of a poor Spaniard. 

Paul. A Spaniard ! Tis false ! I am an American in 
heart and soul. I feel it within myself, and I know it. 

Dav. {seated). You shall judge for yourself. Your own 
obstinacy forces me to tell you the whole — the bitter truth. 
Twenty years ago, while travelling in Spain, I stopped at a 



IN THE TRENCHES. 



13 



small village for refreshment. As I left the hotel at night, to 
continue my journey, I was accosted by a man I had known 
before — Jose Estrada. He had a child in his arms, wrapped 
beneath his cloak, and he begged me, in the name of humanity, 
to take and save it. I consented ; I brought the child to Amer- 
ica, and having no wife, no children of my own, I adopted, 
educated, and made a gentleman of him. (Ii'ises.) You, Paul, 
are that child. A man without a father. 

Paul. My God ! Why was 1 permitted to live for such a 
bitter hour ? Better have been the humblest wretch on earth 
than to be lifted up to fall again like this. Oh, Nadina, Nadina ! 
You are lost to me, indeed ! [Crosses to chair, R. 

Dav. You now understand why you must give the lady up ? 
Nadina comes from a noble Spanish family. If you were to 
marry her, you would bring shame and disgrace upon her. I 
should never have told you this but for your reckless conduct 
and obstinacy. 

Paul. But are there no papers ? 

Dav. Yes, a sealed packet, which I have given my word 
shall not be placed in your hands till you are of age. On your 
twenty-first birthday— a few months hence — it shall be given 
you. 

Paul. Mr. Davis. 

Dav. Nay, Paul, call me father still. 

Paul. No, sir. I will not bear a name I have no right to, 
but the wealth and position I thought were mine I'll win for 
myself. To-day my life begins— one lavor alone I ask ; go to 
Nadina — for I have not the courage nor the heart — tell her — as 
you have told me — all. But tell her also that if she can still 
love the nameless outcast — it she will wait for me in confidence 
and trust — I will win a name and position for myself. 

Dav. I will. Come with me. 

Paul. No ! My head's bewildered, and I must think. 

[Drtim and fife band in the distance, playing" The Girl 
I left behind ine^ 

Dav. Poor boy. Well, it is better that he should know ; 
he's a fine fellow, and I wish I were his father. [Exit, R. 

Paul {looking off, C. to L.). What are those ? Recruits 
marching to the depot. I'll walk down and watch them. 
Nadina, give me but one smile, one word of encouragement 
and hope, and I'll win a name you shall not blush to bear. 

[Exit, L. March ceases. 

Re-enter Green and ^\5\ajaya^\y.^ from r. i e. 

Green. Begorra ! what an astonishment. 

Bull. Goodness gracious ! Vot a surprise ! 

Green. There goes the heir to the largest estate in Cuba. 



14 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ 

Bull. And he doesn't know it. 

Green. A millionaire in Ins own roight. 

Bull. And he doesn't know it. 

Grsen. His mother in the house. 

Bull. And he doesn't know it. 

Green. And he niver will. Oh, what a snap ! If we buy 
the estates — they are cheap — and this young man were to mate 
wid some accident and were to die, to 

Bull Knock or\'er the pail vit his foot ? 

Gresn. Kick tke bucket, you mane. But where has he gone ? 

Bull. Let us vatch and see. His life is vorth too much. 
Poor fellow ! the vorld is very hard upon him, and ve vill 

Green. Sind him to a better one. 

Bull. You shall send him. 

Green. No, you. yQiiarj-cl as before. 

Bull. Ugh ! you Irish bogtrotter. 

Green. Ugh ! you domned Sheeny ! {Quarrel as before.) 
But I forgive you. 

Bull. I accept your abology. [Exeunt by window, C. 

Enter Mad. V. and Nadina, d. r. 

Mad. V. And now, Nadina, you know all, that you are the 
child of a Spanish peasant, and in justice, you must not 
marry this gentleman, to whose position your own humble 
origin would be a constant reproach. 

Nad. But, why, oh, why was I not told before — before it 
was too late to crush my love — before my heart was broken ! 

Mad. V. Heaven knows, child, I have acted for the best ; 
and 1 should not have told you now but for the visit of these 
agents. 

Davis enters, R. 

Dav. Madam, at the request of Paul, whose attachment to 
your daughter 

Mad.V. {crossing, C). 'Stay, Mr. Davis. In order to avoid 
any unnecessary pain, or useless explanation, let me at once 
say that any engagement between your son and my daughter is 
out of the question. 

Paul entering, l. d. 

Paul. Mr. Davis is here — then he has told all. 

Green and Bullheimer enter, C., and renmin at back, 

Dav. (L.). You will pardon me — but Paul 

Paul {down L. c). Will speak for himself — and to Nadina 
alone. 



IN THE TRENCHES. I 5 

Mad. V. (R.)- Be it SO. Nadina, you know your duty. 

{Retires up, 

Dav. {aside to Paul, l. C). Remember, Paul, this is my tinal 

decision ; you either marry Miss Millord, or you quit my roof. 

[Exit, R. Music continued. 
Paul (R.). You have heard all. 
Nad. (L.). All what .? 

Paul. The sudden change from a position of honor and 
respect to that of a beggar. 

Nad. {aside). He knows all. {Aloud.) Yes ; I have heard. 
Paul. Ah ! And your answer ? 
Nad. Do you still require it ? 
- Paul. Yes. When I spoke of love, I little dreamt it was the 
love ot a pauper. 

Nad. {aside). Ah ! then he does know all, and merely 
renews his offer from mistaken honor. I will not be a blot on 
his name. 

Paul. Nadina ! Your answer. 
Nad. Give me back the rose. 

Paul. Ah! {Kissing it and giving it to her.) As with that 
flower, so may your memory of me fade and wither. Good-bye, 
and forever. 

Nad. Good-bye. Oh, mother ! mother ! take me away ! 
[She drops rose, which Paul picks up ; Mad. V. catches 
her, as she falls fai^iting, and she leads her off, L. 
Paul. She has gone from out my life forever. And in this 
great wide world I am friendless and alone. 

[Military band heard in the distance, piano, and worked 
tip forte, till end of Act, as dialogue will allow 

Enter Colonel, r., with Davis. 

Col. (R. C.). Davis, we're off! Farewell. 
Paul (C). Colonel, is it true your regiment is short of men ? 
Col. Confound it, yes ; can't get recruits. Like you, they are 
afraid to fight. 

Paul. Will you take me .? 
Col. ajid Dav. You ! 
Paul. Yes. I— and now. 

Col. But you have resigned your commission. What will 
you do for one ? 

Paul. Do for it ? Win it. 

[The top portion of rifles and bayonets and the colors of 

the regiment are seen crossing at back above the garden 

fence, from L. to R., and continued till the end of Act ; 

supposed to be the soldiers passing. 

Col. There is no time to be lost — our brave fellows are on 

the move. Follow me. \Turns to go, L, 



i6 



IN THE TRENCHES. 



Nadina atid Mad. V. enter /r^w^ l. 

Nad. (L.). Paul — Paul— where are you going ? 

Paul (R. C). To Cuba — to the war — I am beggared in 
pocket and bankrupt in love, and what better late than food for 
powder 'i 

Nad. (L, C). Oh! Paul — I do love you. [Falls i7i his a^-ms. 

Paul. Nadina, farewell ! With your name upon my lips, 
your image in my heart. Heaven bless you ! Good-bye. 

Nadina, falling, is caught by Mad. V. Picture end of Act. 



Military ba7id, forte. 

Colonel. 

Paul. 

Green. 

Bullheimer. 



Bayonets passing at back. 



Nadina. 



Mad. V. 



Davis. 



R. 



L. 



CURTAIN. 



ACT II. 

Scene. — In the Trenches ; the drop shows view of the Trenches. 
Earth Works. 




A disabled Cannon. 



n 
A Barrel. 



A rude Table. 
Camp Fire. 



Cricket rt;z<^ Murphy, discovered ; music. Cricket dancing 
about J Murphy on sentry duty through act. 

Mur. {seated, L.). You seem to be mighty clever wid your 
legs. It's practising ye are ? 
Cric. (L.). What for ? 
Mur. To run away when the inimy comes. 



IN THE TRENCHES. 1 7 

Cric. Run away ! Nevah ! I might retreat, but I'd never 
run away. 

Mlir. Why did you enUst, Cricket ? 

Cric. I do' know, for a fac', I'ish. I was jes' watchin' de 
sogers go by, when a-man sez to me, sez he : " ' Rastus, dat am 
a great sight." " Fo de Lawd 'tis," I sez. "Wen dey is 
fighting, does dem bands play, boss ? " sez I. " Bet yer life ! " 
sez he ; "come and have a drink ; you're a fine man." So he 
treats me to a beer, and den a glass of ale, half-a-dozen glasses 
of whisky, a lemonade and brandy, and a ten cent cigar. 

Mur. Bedad ! that was kind of him. 

Cric. Wal I guess yes. " We has better in the army," sez 
he. " Does you ? " sez I. " Bet yer life," sez he ; "a soger," 
sez he, "sleeps in a palace, and lives like a emperor ; he eats 
on the fat of the land, drinks champagney wine, and smokes 
ten cent cigars." 

Mur. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Cric. An' the fus* thing you know they make you a hosifer 
at once. And the fus' thing I knew I had gone an' 'listed. 

Mrs. Bullheimer entering, l. i e., crossing; r. 

Mrs. B. Excuse me, have you seen any one by the name of 
Bullheimer ? Oh, sir, he's my husband. 

Mur. Is he now ? Then you're his wife, bedad. 

Mrs. B. I am, sir. I am — and he's left me and the little 
house in Milwaukee and the rent not paid. I followed him to 
New York, and then down here, and I'll follow him to the end 
of the world, and into the next one too ; but wdien I do find him 
—oh! 

Mur. I wouldn't be Bullheimer for a trifle. What kind of a 
manner of a man is he ? 

Mrs. B. Medium height. 

Mur. Yes ! 

Mrs. B. Eyes of no particular color. 

Mur. Yes ! 

Mrs. B. His hair, not exactly dark. 

Mur. No ! - ' 

Mrs. B. And not exactly light. 

Mur. No ! 

Mrs. B. But a sort of blackish-sandy-brown. 

Mur. Yes ! 

Mrs. B. With an ordinary sort of voice. 

Mur. Bedad, I've seen such a man. 

Mrs. B. Where ? 

Mur. In Ireland, about eight years ago. 

Mrs. B. Oh ! he's a sort of army contractor and agent. 

Mur. Is he duck-footed ? 
2 



l8 IN THE TRENCHES. 

Mrs. B. No. 

Mur. Pigeon-breasted ? 

Mrs. B. No. 

Mur. Does he squint .'' 

Mrs. B. No. 

Mur. Then, bedad, it's the man ; his name's Bullheimer, 
and he's a contractor. 

Mrs. B. Yes, but where is he ? 

Mur. Kape straight in that way — climb over the fence, and 
kape straight on to the right, and then inquire again. 

Mrs. B. Yes, but who of, and who for ? 

Mur. I lave that to your own discretion. 

Mrs. B. I'll find him, if he's on the earth, and if he isn't I'll 
go alter him and find him. Only I'm afraid it will be in a 
warmer place than Cuba. [Exit R. i E. 

Mur. Bedad, in ten minutes she'll walk bang into the 
Spanish lines. 

Paul heard outside, L. i E. 

Paul. Halt ! 

Mur. There he goes, the finest lad in the regiment. 

Cric. Ugh ! Made hmi a sergeant, and forgot to promote 
me. Don't 1 deserve the stripes ? [Exit, R. i E. 

Mur. The divil doubt it — only the stripes w^ould be on your 
back. 

Paul (t';z/^r/;/^^ L. I E.). Keep on the alert, boys. You won't 
have a long rest. This flag of truce will last only two hours, 
and then the firing will begin again. 

Mur. Aye, aye, Sergeant. 

Paul {produces tobacco). Here's a little tobacco. It isn't 
much, but you are welcome. Load your pipes. 

Mur. Thank you, Sergeant. Always good to us men, eh .'* 

Paul. There's no merit. We share the dangers, why not 
our tobacco ? 

Mur. Oh, Sergeant, you're as modest as a woman and as 
brave as a lion. P^aix ! I'm glad you're an American. 

Paul. The Colonel will have it that I'm a Spaniard. 

Mur. Sure, Sergeant, the Colonel has a prejudice against 
you, the divil only knows why. 

Paul. I cannot help that. My heart is American, though 
my birth was Spanish, and he hates anythmg Spanish. Unfor- 
tunately I am educated, and he hates education in the ranks. 
He opposed my promotion. I did not deserve my promotion, 
perhaps ; but I do not deserve his dislike. 

Mur. Not deserve promotion. Bedad ! When you walked 
into the shot and shell as though they were gray peas and shut- 
tlecocks, and led our men and brought back the wounded 
officer, the Colonel w^as obliged to promote you. 



IN THE TRENCHES. I9 

Paul. Had there been any danger I should not have done it. 

Mur. That's the fun of the thing-. You beHeve yourself to 
be a coward, and you're the bravest man in the regiment. 

Paul. It's a mistake. 1 do no more than any other soldier 
would do. I neither dodge a shot, nor dread a bayonet, because 
I do not see any danger ; but if I did, I'd run away. 

Mur. Faix ! you would ? But it would be after the 
Spanish. 

Paul. I have comrades here who prize their lives because 
they've those at home to love and live for, and who in the long 
and silent nights can dream of home, of tender looks, of sweet 
voices whispering constant love and hope ; but I am nameless, 
friendless ; and what matters it if on yonder slopes I find a 
grave. [Dr2i7)i roll, L. i E. 

Col. {entering, L. i E. ; all salute). Keep a sharp lookout, 
lads. Though the enemy is quiet, the truce will soon be up. 
There's mischief brewing. Before the day is gone, you'll have 
work to do. Where's the sergeant in command ? \_Crossing v.. 

Paul (L.). Here, sir. 

Col, That half-bred Spaniard ; it's strange I should have 
taken a dislike to him. Sir, your friend, Mr. Davis, is dead. 

Paul. I regret to say the news has already reached me. 

Col. You behaved ungratefully to him. 

Paul. Pardon me, Colonel. I shall ever remember him with 
gratitude and love. If I preferred fighting in the trenches to 
marrying a woman I did not like 

Col. To fall in love with a Spanish woman 

Paul. That was my affair, not yours. 

Col. Ahem ! You have won rapid promotion. I hope you 
deserved it. 

Paul. I hope so too, sir. 

Col. Rather too important a position, this, for a foreigner to 
hold. - 

Paul. I beg pardon. I am an American. 

Col. Oh ! I thought you were a half-bred Spaniard, 

Paul. I was an American gentleman, sir. 

Col. We don't expect non-commissioned officers to be 
gentlemen. 

Paul. But we expect the commissioned officers to be. 

Col. Confound the fellow ! Humph ! Information has been 
received at headquarters that there are spies in the camp. 

Paul. Spies, Colonel ! 

Col. And that information of our numbers at each post, 
with drawings and plans, are being supplied to the enemy, and 
by a person described as "Spanish-American." {Looks at 
Paul.) But let the traitor beware, for if we catch him, we'll 
shoot him like a dog. 



20 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ 

Paul {aside). Why am 1 silent under this injustice? Is it 
respect for a brave man, or because I am a coward ? 
Col. Vou are silent, Sergeant. 

Paul I was hoping. Colonel, that the spy might be caught. 
Col. And I that he won't be in our ranks. 
Paul. Americans, Colonel, are neither spies nor traitors. 

Enter Cricket luith two packets, r. i e. 

Crick {cj'ossing, C). From the Commander-in-Chief, Kunnel. 
— (^q\. {opens packet ; reads). Eh! what is this? A packet 
of letters for you. Sergeant. 

Paul. I thank you, sir. 

[Takes packet and goes into tent ; reads. 

Col. {reading, R.). " Permit two Cuban ladies to pass through 
the American lines." What the devil do women want here ? 

Crick. (L.). De lady's brother is dying, sah, and she has 
been giben leave to pass to him wid de nex' flag ob truce for 
the wounded. 

Paul {in tent, reading by hnitern). Madame Valdoza here, 
and Nadina ! 

Col. I'd rather see the devil in the camp than a woman ; 
but the flag of truce will shortly expire ; they must wait for the 
next before they can pass. Now for a peep at the enemy. 

\Mounts raking platform, R. of C, and looks offv.., 
throns^h glass. 

Paul {stopping Cricket, who is going l.). Where is* 
Madame Valdoza staying ? 

Crick. At headquarters, sah. 

Paul. Thank you. [Exit Cricket, l. i e. 

Paul. Nadina and her mother — will they know that I am 
here ? And if they do, will they bestow a single thought upon 
me ! Will she, Nadina, care to know my fate — if I am living, 
or if I am lying upon a Cuban battle-field — like many a better 
man — with a bullet through his heart ? 

Mur. {in tent). What's the matter wid ye, Sergeant ? You've 
a face as long as a doctor's bill. 

Paul {in tent). Nothing, Corporal. {Aside.) Now^ for the 
other packet. {Opens it.) As I supposed, from poor Mr. 
Davis. {Reads.) "Is to be opened when twenty-one years of 
age." I am past that now. What is this ? A certificate of 
birth of Paul, son of Emilia Valdoza, on October the 13th, 1833, 
and properly attested, indorsed by a statement that for family 
reasons a female had been substituted. Great Heaven ! then 
Madame Valdoza is my mother. 

[As Paul opens second packet and reads, Murphy turns 
and sees Colonel. 



IN THE TRENCHES. 21 

Mur. Bedad, Colonel, you'd be picked off by the enemy like 
a pigeon from a trap. 

Col. Have the men been here ? 

Mur. Have they been there ! Faix, haven't they ? 

Col. Where the men go, the Colonel goes. To an American 
officer, duty has no fear. 

Mur. {aside). He's a severe officer, but, bedad, he's a brave 
man. 

Paul. Good ! The second document, signed by Mr. Davis, 
proving that his supposed son is the same child he rescued on 
the night of the 13th of October, 1833, from Jos6 Estrada; 
these two documents make the chain of evidence complete. In 
Madame Valdoza I have found a mother — she is in the camp — 
but I cannot leave my post. I have it — I will write to her, and 
enclose these precious proofs. When every moment I may 
swell the list of killed it is not safe for me to have them. 

yBegins to write at table in tent by the light of the lantern. 

Enter Green and Bullheimer, l. i e. 

Green. This is the spot where our friend Paul is stationed. 

Bull. I vish he vas stationed in the next vorld. 

Green. Me, too. 

Bull. Sent to the devil. 

Green. Yis. The divil take him. 

Bull. Romero is dead, and ve have bought the property — 
but ve can't hold it while this fellow is living. 

Green. Ah ! he must die, like many a better man ! 

Bull. But how ? He's in every battle, and in every charge 
— fights like a hero, and calls himself a coward. 

Green. Ah ! if I were only behind him, and could put a bul- 
let in his back. But no, he always comes out unhurt. 

Bull. Hush ! there is the Colonel. Have you the drawings 
of the redoubts and entrenchments, and the number of men at 
each ? 

Green. In the lining of me coat, begorra. 

Bull. To-night they must be in the hands of the Spaniards. 

Green. You had better take care of them. 

Bull. No — you — to have them found on me is instant death. 

Green. It's the same forme, begorra ! Will you take them ? 

Bull. No, I won't. 

Green. The divil take yez for a Hebrew sneak. 

Bull. Damnation ! 

Green {sees Colonel). But I forgive you. 

Bull. I accept your abology. 

Col. {comes dowfi, R. h.j. HuUoa ! What the devil do you 
want here ? 

Green. I wasjoost inspectin' the army ! 



22 IN THE TRENCHES. I 

Col. Irish ! Who are you ? 

Green. The firm of Green and B-ullheimer, International 
Financiers and Army Contractors. 

Col. Oh ! Army contractors. 

Green. Yes, sir — army contractors. 

Col. Oh, the damned rascals who have clothed our brave 
fellows in rags. I should like to hang a few of you. 

Green. Ye're hard on us. Colonel. 

Bull. I nefer did — so hellup me gracious ! 

Col. Now look here, I w^on't have strangers prowling about 
here ; we know there are spies in the camp. . 

Green and Bull. Spies !- 

Col. Aye ! Spies, who are making plans of our entrench- 
ments, and lists of our men ; they are known to be Spanish- 
Americans. It's death to the rascals when caught. 

Green. But oi'm an Oirisham from Cork. 

Bull. And I'm a Jew from Jerusalem. 

S^Crosses, R, H. ; bugle call to arms j drum rolls till 
Colonel off. 

Col. Ho, Sergeant ! 

Paul. Yes, Colonel. 

Col. What are you doing ? 

Paul. Writing a letter ; but I have finished now. 

[Seals letter. 

Col. Follow me. 

\^'sx\ followed by Paul ; Murphy pacing tip am 
down as sentry, R. to l. 

Bull. 'Tis he ! And there he goes — the man whose death 
will bring us fortune. Oh, I vill give you von hundred times, 
its weight in gold for de bullet dat find its vay to his heart. 

Green. Mind a rope don't find its way round your neck. 

Bull. And yours too, my vriend. {Sees Murphy.) Hush, 
we must get rid of dese dam papers, and next ve must get rid 
of him. He was writing in that tent, you heard. 

Green. We must read that letter. 

Bull. But how ? {Points to MuRPHY.) Look in when his 
back is turned. {Mvylvhy paces off, R. i E.) Ha ! Now. 

Green. Roight ye are. {Looks in, ajid comes out to BULL- 
HEIMER, as Murphy turns and passes to L.) A packet of 
letters for Madame Valdoza. 

Bull. Vot is to be done ? 

Green. Dead aisy ! While I manage the sintry, steal the 
letters, and put in these. {Gives papers.) Do you tumble ? 

Bull. Yes ; I fall off mysellef. 

Green {to Murphy, whose back is to the tcjit, producing 
flask). Some brandy. Will you drink ? 

{By this titne Bullheimer is in tent, and openi7ig letters. 



IN THE TRENCHES. 23 

Mur. Willi? Won't I. {Drinks. 

Green {smgs). "For we are jolly good fellows, we are jolly- 
good fellows," etc. 

Mur. And so say all of us, hurrah ! And so you are. 

Green. Here is your good luck. {Drinks.) An' may you 
live till you die. 

Mur. Here goes. An' may you be tin days in hiven before 
the divil hears of your death. {Drinks. 

Bull, {comes out to Green). Curse it ; I've done the trick, 
but can't seal the packet. 

Green. The divil ! Nivir mind ; have a drink. 

Bull. Mid bleasure ! 

Green. Now, you. {Gives back flask to Islv^^VYiY.) I'll be 
back in a minute. [Murphy abont to restune walk. 

Bull. Try my flask. It is real Irish. 

Mur. Raal Irish ? Thin, bedad, I'll taste it as well ; that 
the Spaniards shan't take it prisoner. 

{Drinks. Green has slipped into tejit, melted luax at 
lamp, atid re-sealed letter with his own seal, which is 
fastened to his watch chaift. 

Bull. You seem to like it. 

Mur. Loike it ! Ain't I traiting it as a brother ? {Drinks. 

Green. Ah ! me dear Paul, as I seal your letter, so I seal 
your fate. 

Mur. Bedad, I won't have any more. 

Bull. You can't. You've emptied the bottle. 

{As Murphy ttcrns and sees Gr^^i^ coining from tent. 

Mur. What the devil are you doing, man ? 

Green. I was looking for a light for me cigar from the 
lantern. 

Mur. No one must go in there. 

Green. Have the cigar, then. You know your duty. 

Mur. Bedad, I will. {Takes out knife and cuts it in half. 

Bull. What are you doing ? 

Mur. Cutting it in half-one half for myself, and one half 
for the Sergeant, who shared his tobacco with me. 

Re-enter Paul, l. i e. ; takes packet from the tent. 

Paul. Murphy, run with this packet for me, and give it to 
the Cuban ladies at headquarters. 

[Murphy salutes and q-^\X^ l. Vk\5\. goes in tent. 

Green. Now we have sprung the mine. Look out for a 

Bull. Blow up. 

Nad. (entering l.' i e.). 'Tis here they said that I should 
find him. Thanks to the flag of truce, I have come without 
danger. Dear Paul ! how my heart leaps with the thought of 
meeting him. 



24 IN THE TRENCHES. 

Green {seeing her). Ah ! This is a great pleasure. Me 
heart bates with joy to see your voice once more again. 

Nad. Pardon me, sir, but 

Green. Anything you like. 

Nad. You are the person, 1 believe, who has purchased the 
Romero estates, well knowing that he who sold them had no 
right to do so. 

Green. Oh, me darlin', niver moind the estates 

Nad. Permit me to pass. 

Green. Jist wan minute 

Nad. If you are a gentleman 

Green. I am an Irishman 

Paul {comitto out of tent). Hulloa ! What's this ? 

Green. Nothin' at all, at all, jist 

Paul (C). Nadina ! Nadina ! [Seeing her. 

Nad. Paul! [They embrace afid retire up. 

Green {aside). Damn him ! 

Bull. You got it in the neck-tie dot time. 

Green. I'H be revenged for this. 

Bull. Make it hot for him. 

Green. Oi'll make it hot for him, for I hate him. 

[Exeunt, l. i e. 

Paul {cojning down with Nadina). Dear Nadina, I hold 
you in my arms at last, and long and weary months of misery 
are forgotten. 

Nad. Oh, Paul ! Why did you leave America in anger, 
and the friends who loved you ? 

Paul. Did you not reject me — refuse my love because of my 
altered position ? 

Nad. No, Paul, no. It was because I myself had learnt 
that I was not the daughter of Madame Valdoza. 

Paul. I have written to her ; has she received my letter ? 

Nad. No ! But she will be here directly ; she is most anxious 
to see you. But, Paul, you are a sergeant — why v/ere you 
promoted ? 

Paul. Because I didn't run away. 

Nad. Run away ? You, Paul — why, we are told that for 
your reckless bravery the regiment have called you " Dare- 
Devil Davis." But why were you promoted ? 

Paul. I scarcely know. It was a cold gray morning, the 
ground heavy, and the air thick and misty with the rain ; the 
men were sleeping, everything about the camp was quiet and 
silent, when a strange and muffled sound was heard, and then 
in the dawning light a thick gray mass of moving men were 
seen, and the enemy were upon us ; a shot was fired, the drums 
were beaten, the bugle called to arms, and in an instant the 
men sprang up to life and action. On came the enemy, mad 



IN THE TRENCHES. 



25 



with drink and frenzy, and down we went to meet them, 
shoulder to shoulder, with a ringing American cheer. Ah ! 
how many a brave and noble fellow shed his blood that day 
upon the wet and barren ground, and left the hearts he loved 
to mourn him. 

Nad. But you, Paul — you ? 

Paul. I had no time to think, I had but to do, and with my 
comrades dispute every inch of ground, bayonet to bayonet, and 
foot to foot ; our officers were killed, the ground \\;is choked 
with the dymg and the dead, and overwhelmed by numbers, we 
were losing ground, when with one last desperate shout we 
charged again, and drove the Spaniards back. 

Nad. And did you think of me ? 

Paul. Your name was on my lips, and in my heart. I had 
a Spaniard down, a man who fought with desperate bravery 
throughout ; there he lay helpless and fallen, my bayonet was 
at his heart — I looked into his pale, defiant face, and there I 
saw 

Nad. Mine ? 

Paul. Aye ! Yours — the same dark earnest eyes, the same 
expression. 

Nad. And you killed him ? 

Paul. No ! Spared him ; he was wounded and I brought 
him prisoner to the camp. 

Nad. Have you seen him since ? 

Paul. No. I was promoted on the field of battle, and have 
since been too busy to visit him. 

\D7'tinis, triiinpct J " TJie Salute y 

Enter Colonel, Murphy, and two Soldiers. 

Col. {crossing). Sergeant, you are under arrest. 

Paul (c, with two Soldiers). 1, Colonel ! For what ? 

Col. Let your conscience tell you. {To Nadina.) You 
must return to headquarters at once. 

Nad. (L.). But Paul ! Oh, sir, if he is in danger let me stay 
with him. 

Col. Impossible ! Conduct the lady back. 

Nad. But, sir- • [Afusic, piano, continued. 

Col. Silence ! {Aside.) Hang it, my mother was a woman. 
{Aloud.) Well — well — say farewell and leave him. 

Paul. Have no fear, Nadina, there is some mistake — good- 
bye. 

Nad. Good-bye ! 

[^Going L., then looks back to Paul, who goes to her, 
kisses her, and she exit, L. i E. 

Col. {to Soldiers, who are following). Bring back wnth you 
the Spanish prisoner taken by this man. (SOLDIERS saluts 



26 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ 

and exeunt, l. i e. To Paul.) Now, to deal with you. I 
have received a communication to the etfect that the papers 
we require are in a sealed packet, addressed to a Cuban lady 
in the camp. 

Mur. {up C). I hope there is no harm — there is the letter. 

[Gives if to Colonel. 

Paul (L.). That is my property. 

Col. (R.)- Young- man, a grave and terrible charge hangs 
over your head ; open that packet and clear yourself. 

Paul. It is a private letter, and I deny your right to pry into 
its contents. 

Col. Open that letter. 

Paul. I decline. 

Col. Beware, young man ; you are suspected ot an odious 
crime — ol being a spy and a traitor to your country. 

Paul. Colonel ! such a charge is almost too absurd for even 
indignation — but I give you my word of honor, as a man, that 
packet contains only a private letter. 

Col. Once more, will you open it ? 

Paul. No ! 

Col. Then my duty compels me to do so. IMurphy, Ijreak 
the seal of that letter and hand me the contents. 

Mur. I'd rather not. 

Col. Obey orders. 

Mur. Bedad, I must. 

[Music. Opens packet, hands the contents to the 
Colonel, retaining ejivelope. 

Col- {reads). Ha ! what are these ? Fetch the person to 
whom the packet was addressed. (Exit MURPHY, L.) So, so, 
a plan of the entrenchments, and a list of the men. 

Paul. I — I — did not put them there — there js treachery. 

Col. Treachery ! Aye ! But you are the traitor. 

Paul. 'Tis false ! my honor is as stainless as your own. 

Col. {to Murphy, who returns). Who gave this to you ? 

Mur. (l.). The Sergeant. 

Col. Did it leave your hands till you broke the seal ? 

Mur. Divil a moment, Colonel. 

Col. You hear 1 Oh, ^ young and yet so depraved ! 
Were your crime less detestable, I could almost pity you. 

Paul. I ask no pity — I demand justice. 

Col. Then you ask for death — and a death the most dis- 
graceful and revolting. 

Mad. V. (entering, L. i E.). Paul ! 

[Goes to hijn and shakes hands. 

Col. (R-)- ^^ '• ^OM know the prisoner, madani ? 

Mad. V. (L.). The prisoner! {Turns and sees the CO'LO'RlLl..) 
Ha ! My husband — and alive ! 



IN THE TRENCHES. 2/ 

Col. My wife ! (Mad. Valdoza about advancing to him.) 
Stand back ! I have a stern and terrible duty to perform. 

Enter two Soldiers ivith Jose Estrada, l. i e. 

Jose (I .. seeing PAUL), The soldier who saved my life. 

Col. Ha ! you speak English ? 

Joss. I do. 

Col. (R.). Your nanie ? 

Jos?. Jose Estrada. | Paul «;/<'/ Mad. Valdoza ,9 /^r/. 

Mad. V. (L. C. ; to Colonel). One moment, as you value all 
you hold clear in life. Jose Estrada, do you know me .? 

J0S3. Yes ! the Senora Romero. 

Mai. V. 'Twas you who, twenty years ago, took away my 
son. Where is he ? 

JCS2. I can tell you nothing. I have my duty to myself. 

Col. How do you mean ? 

Jose. 1 am among enemies. 

Col. You are among Americans, who will treat you with 
justice and humanity. 

Paul (C). Speak the truth, and you are sale. 

Mad. V. Speak ! There stands the husband who has 
doubted my love. 

Jose. He was misled by a forged letter. 

Col. Ah ! 

Mad. V. And the child, our son ? What has become of 
him ? 

Jose. He was adopted by an American gentleman. 

Mad. V. His name ? 

Jose. Davis. 

Col. My son ! and I dare not take him to my heart. My 
son ! A traitor and a spy ! 

Mad. V. - A spy and a traitor ! 

Col. Aye. Proved here beyond a doubt. 

Mad. V. But you will save him — yout- son .? 

Col. Were he twenty times my son, I have a duty to perform. 
\A trumpet call, " The alarm" followed by roll of drums. 

Enter Soldier, l. i y.., who gives dispatch to Colonel. 

Paul. Do not plead for me, mother, I am innocent. And 
whatever my fate, I can meet it like a man. 

\Trumpet call, L., answered, R., by anotJier call, 
and drum roll. 
Col. {to JOSE). You are a prisoner, and must return to your 
quarters. (7i? Soldiers). Conduct him back. 

I Exeunt Soldiers ivith Jose l. j. e. 

Col. The attack has commenced. ( 7}? Paul.) You are my 

son, and Heaven knows 1 would have taken you to my heart 



28 IN THE TRENCHES. 

and loved you. But you stand dishonored in the eyes of man. 
On yonder battery waves the Spanish flag. {Trumpcf call, a 
charge, L., answered, R., by another call. Transparency m 
cloth, as if fiavies from the cannon mounted on the differ ejit 
batteries.) A forlorn hope of volunteers are starting now to take 
it, and I would not see you die a traitor ; the service is one of 
death. Go, then, and meet it like a soldier's son. 

\Triimpet calls as before. Reports of cannon. 
Mad. V. No. no ! 

Paul. I will ! ( Trumpets and reports as before). My honor 
is true and spotless as your own. But you, my father, doubt 
me. I'll seal its truth in death, or bring back a name you siiall 
be proud to own. Good-bye, mother ! If I fall, tell Nadina 
how I died — wronged and misjudged. Farewell ! And now 
for the Spanish flag. 

\^Runs up inclined platform, R., and disappears over 
earthwork. Men at back passing. Alarms, R., and l.. 
Reports of cannon and transparencies in cloth. 
Col. {to Mad. v.). I must to my post. After many years 
your truth is proved. Let us not part in anger. 
Mad. V. My son ! You have killed him. 
Col. He was dishonored. 
Mad. V. 'Tis false 1 

Col. I am going into action, perhaps to death. 
Mad. V. You have sent my son to his. 
Col. My duty. Say farewell. 

Mad. V. Never ! Bring back my son alive, or take a 
mother's curse. 

Col. Be it so ! The fate I sent him to I'll share myselt. 
\ Rushes up platfarjn, r., a7id disappears over earthwork, 
R. Alarms as before, reports, and transparency, 
cheers, etc. 
Nad. (entering, l. i e.). Paul ! where is he ? 

Green and Bullheimer, enter, l. i e. 

Green (l.)- Let me tell you. Your brave soldier is with 
\}c forlorn hope. 
Nad. (L. c). Ha ! 

Green. He will die. He will be shot. 
Nad. No ! he will return. 

{Trumpets, drums, reports as before. 

Green, l^ut not alive, or he must have the nine lives of a 

cat. [ Trumpets, driims, reports. Re-enter Colonel 

over platform, R. 
Col. (k..)- '^^^ battery is taken, and the flag is down. 

\^A loud cheer is heard at R. 
Mad. V. (L.). My son ! 



IN THE TRENCHES. 29 

Nai. Paul ! Where is he ? 

Enter Paul over platforui with Spanish flag, R. 

Paul {at top of platform). Here ! Mother — Nadina ! {A 
lo H d report. ) H a ! [ He fa lis . 

Picture. 

Soldiers. Soldiers. Bullheimer. 

Colonel, Paul. Countess. Nadina. Green. 

Music in Orchestra. 
CURTAIN. 



ACT III. 

Scene. — Drawing-room of Madame Valdoza's home near 
Santiago. A centre opentJtg with steps leading to it, with 
a large window, showing landscape. Doors, R. ajid L. 
Table, L. Chairs, etc. Enter Cricket, still in uniform, 
and Mrs. Bullheimer, c, dow)i steps. Music. 

Cric. Et" you'll wait, missy, I'll tell Mr. Bullheimer you are 
heah. 

Mrs. B. But tell me, what are they doing- here ? 

Cric. Jes' as dey like ; dey are masters here, and 'specially 
dat oily I'shman. De missus no sooner found her son dan he 
was shot in the trenches — sliot in de moment of victory, poor 
fellow — an' now dese two fellers who have bought de property 
have claimed it. How did you get here, missy ? 

Mrs. B. Ah ! a woman will find her way anywhere when 
she wants a husband. 

Cric. Here he comes now, missy. Shall I say you have 
arrived ? 

Mrs. B. Please don't ; if you tell him I am here he'll want 
to be somewhere else. But what are they doing here ? 

Cric. Jes' as dey like ; he and the I'ishman are masters 
here. 

Mrs. B. Put me somewhere, so that I can pounce upon him. 

Cric. Step in here. (Mrs. Bullheimer enters room, l. i 
e.) Yah ! yah ! Dey's going too be a hot time in de ole town 
to night. ' [Retires up. 

Enter Green and Bullheimer, l. of c. 

Bull. I tell you you vas a humbug. 



3© IN THE TRENCHES. 

Green. What's that, ye Sheeny divil ? Oi'll pull your nose. 

Bull. No ! You von't. 

Green. Yis, I will. {They quarrel ; seeing Q'^ACY^Y.H .) But 
I forgive you. 

Bull. 1 accept your abology. {They shake hands. To 
Cricket.^ Vill you have the bleasure to tell Madame Valdoza 
that ve vould like the honor of an 

Green. Interview. 

Ciic. De missus can't see no one nohow, but I will take your 
message. [Exit, L. door. 

Enter Jose Estrada, l. of c. down steps. 

Bull. Ah ! The letter to the Governor. 

Jose. Impossible to deliver it ; the American bombardment 
has only just ceased, and my countrymen, the Spaniards, will 
allow no one to leave the houses, as they wish to keep the 
inhabitants in entire ignorance of the state ot the siege. 

Bull. You are wilhng to serve us .-* 

Jose. Why not ? You offer to pay me well, and you offer 
me my freedom ; and for two bribes I am yours, body and 
soul. 

Green. And the girl, Nadina, she is your daughter ? 

Jose. No, the child of my brother. 

Bull. And no one knows it ! 

Jose. The father and the mother both are dead ; and no 
one knows it but myself. 

Bull. And you intend to claim relationship with the young 
lady ? 

Jose. Yes. 

Green. You loved your brother, eh ? 

Jose. Loved him? 'I loved the mother of Nadina, who married 
him. My disappointment did not breed much love, and for 
twenty years I've felt the rankling thirst for vengeance. 

Green. And you shall have it. You serve my interest, I 
will give you freedom. 

Jose. I am yours. I have those about me who will serve 
your purpose. We shall be ready when you call. 

[Exit, c. to R. 

Green. Ha ! ha ! Bullheimer, me boy, we win the game. 
We are safe now. We have been w^ell paid. We have claimed 
the estate, and Paul is dead. Begorra, w^e've had a narrow 
squeak of it. 

Bull, By chiminy, yes. 

Green. The estate is ours. Where are the two papers that 
prove the change of children — the identity of Paul .'' 

Bull. Here in my pocket. 

Green. Suppose I put them in mine. 



IN THE TRENCHES. 3l 

Bull. Suppose you don't. 

Green. Suppose I do, thin. 

Bull. I'll see you hanged first. 

Green. Do you doubt me honor ? 

Bull. Do you doubt mine ? [They qiiarret as before. 

Green. No, no, you are a gintleman. {Aside.) I don't 
think. 

Bull. And you're another. 

Green. We will keep our rule to square up as we go. You 
shall keep one and I will keep the other. 

Bull. Very well. Here they are. 

[Gives Green the choice. Green takes one. 

Green. I have the one that certifies to the change of children. 

Bull. And I have number two, dot certifies dot Paul vas dot 
same child. 

Green. Ha ! ha ! Now Nadina will soon be mine. Oh, the 
charming Nadina ! 

Bull. Bah ! She doesn't care a straw for you. 

Green. Divil a care ! She will soon care the whole hay- 
stack. You think she won't love me, because your wife made a 
fool of you with the plumber. 

Bull. You say it again. 

Green. Ha ! ha ! Your wife makes a fool of you 

Bull. Ah ! 

[As he turns on Green, Mrs. Bullheimer enters, l., and 
comes betweejt them. 

Mrs. B. (c). You know better. 

Bull. The devil — my wife ! 

Green. The divil ! The little fat, fair and forty ! I'm off. 

jExit, c. /^r. 

Mrs. B. And so, Mr. Bullheimer, I have found you. 

Bull. Yes, Mrs. Bullheimer. 

Mrs. B. Oh ! if I could harrow up your feelings ! but you 
haven't any. If I could touch your heart ! but it is only a 
pumping machine. Oh ! why did you leave the beautiful home 
in Milwaukee ? 

Bull. (R.)- Because the drains were bad. 

Mrs. B. (L.) Didn't I look after your little comforts ? 

Bull. Yes, gave me pigs' feet for breakfast. 

Mrs. B. Because you had been tipsy over night. Didn't I 
look after your clothes and give you clean shirts and collars ? 

Bull. Yes, frayed at the edges, covered witii iron moulds, 
and burst at the button-holes. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Bullheimer, and when you came home tipsy 
at three o'clock in the morning, and wanted to go to bed with 
your boots on, what did I do ? 

Bull. Emptied the water jug over me. 



32 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ 

Mrs. B. Wasn't I kind to your friends ? 

Bull. Yes, too l<ind when they were good-looking young 
men. 

Mrs. B. BuUheimer ! " 

Bull. How about the plumber, who always came when 1 
was out ? 

Mrs. B. People always are out when the plumber comes. 

Bull. Yes, but you were at home to him. 

Mrs. B. What do you mean, BuUheimer ? 

Bull. When I was out, did you not receive the visits of the 
plumber, who put on my dressing-gown, wore my slippers, 
mopped up my whisky, and smoked my cigars ? 

Mrs. B. Who told you so ? 

Bull. Somebody who saw him. 

Mrs. B. Who ? 

Bull. My friend and partner Green. 

Mrs. B. Oh ! oh ! of course he saw him. 

Bull. Ah ! 

Mrs. B. And in the dressing-gown and slippers ? 

Bull. Oh ! 

Mrs B. And smoking your cigars ? 

Bull. Ah ! and told me like a friend — good Green ! 

Mrs. B. Of course, good Green saw all this ! Because he 
himself was the plumber. 

Bull. What ? 

Mrs. B. The little villain tried to mislead me, and make a fool 
of you, and then fearing I showld tell you, has made all the mis- 
chief. BuUheimer, I have been a true and good woman to you. 

Bull. Are you sure of it ? ^ 

Mrs. B. Quite sure. 

Bull. Then come to my arms. 

Mrs. B. Moses ! 

Bull. Rebecca ! [Embrace. 

Mrs. B. BuUheimer ! This man is a scamp. 

Bull. He is. 

Mrs, B. And you're another. You come with me and I'll 
show you a letter in his own handwriting, proving his treachery 
to you. Come — come. 

Ball. Oh ! oh ! Mr. Pea Green — you then were the blumber ; 
but beware the roused lion. 

Mrs. B. Moses ! 

Bull. Rebecca ! [Exeunt, R. i e. 

Enter Mad. V., z?i moiiriiing, with Cricket, l. 

Mad. V. Cricket ! Why has the firing ceased ? 
Cric. 1 don't know — de people are all forbidden to leave 

del I' iioii^ 'i n )ho\v. 



IN THE TRENCHES. 33 

Mad. V. At all risks I will leave this place— I cannot endure 
the presence of these two men. 

Cric. But where will you go, missy ? 

Mad. V. Ah ! where, indeed ? I am utterly ruined by this 
war— my land devastated— the crops destroyed— my houses 
burnt to the ground. Oh, where— where shall I find friends ! 

Cric. You can jes' reckon on me, missy. Yes, indeed 
you can. 

Enter Green, c. from l. 

Green {down l.). And another in me. 

Mad. V. You have proved the kind of friendship yours is, 
Mr. Green ; it is the friendship of the serpent when he winds 
his coils round his victim. Friendship ! The friendship of the 
adder. 

Greeil. If I am an adder, begorra, mind I do not sting. 

Mad. V. Go, Cricket. 

Cric, Yes, missy. jExit, L. 

Green. You know that I am the owner of what was your 
property ? That your son was shot. 

Mad. V. My boy — my brave boy ! 

Green. Ah ! a tear is in your eye. I love Nadina ; let her 
become my wife, then the property shall still be yours. 

Mad. V. Never ! Nadina your wife ! 1 would rather see 
her in her grave. {^Crosses, L. 

Enter Nadina, c. from l. 

Nad. (C). Mother ! What is this ! 

Mad. V. (L.). Nothing, my child. 

Green. (R. h.). I wait my answer from the lady herself. 

Mad. V. Nadina, my darling, this man dared to propose for 
your hand in marriage. 

Nad. Ah ! Does he not know ? 

Green. I know that the young man you love is dead — is 
gone never to return, and the love you gave to him I ask for 
myself. 

Nad. Paul ! My brave, my noble-hearted Paul, how hand- 
some, how bright and glorious he looked, how proud and 
happy as he bore the Spanish colors in his hand. Oh! 
mother, mother, would that I could die ! \Si71ks iii chair. 

Mad. V. Hush, Nadina, hush, I too have my sorrow to 
bear. 

Nad. Mother ! 

Mad. V. He was my boy, he would have been your hus- 
band. And in your young lives, in your happiness, I should 
have found my own. No ; you shall never be his. You have 
your answer. No ! 

3 



34 IN THE TRENCHES. 

Green. But I insist, 

Nad. Nay, mother, let me hear him. 

Mad. V. Then, sir, be brief. \Retires up, C. and off to L. 

Green. Ah ! Me darlin', why can't you love me ? 

Nad. Love, Mr. Green, is created by love, and loslered by 
kindness, devotion, and self-sacrifice, not by threats and perse- 
cution. 

Green. My heart is kind, and 1 would not threaten you, nor 
persecute. My love for you has changed my life. For you, 
I can be as good as the angels ; for you, 1 can be bad as the 
devils ; for good or bad you can make me what you will. 

Nad. I have told you, sir, I have no love to give. 

Green. You gave it to a boy — a boy who knew not how to 
prize the jewel he had won and was a spy and a traitor. 

Nad. Tis false ! How dare you malign the dead, and to 
me, who knew him the soul of honor ? — he lived a blameless 
life, and died a soldier's death. 

Green. He was a spy. 

Nad. He was a man, and worthy to command a woman's 
love— I have no love for you. 

Green. If you have no love for me you will have no home for 
yourself; your mother will starve ; be my wile and save your 
mother, 

Nad. Starve ! 

Green. Yes, for the property is now mine, and one little 
word of yours can save her. 

Nad. {aside). She has been more than a mother to me, gave 
me years of tender watchfulness and love. I owe my life and 
more to her, and is she not the mother of Paul ? 

Green. 1 wait your answer .? 

Nad. If what you say be true — if— if there be no other 
means to save her 

Green. You will be my wife ? 

Nad. For her sake I — I 

Green. Ah ! 

[As he goes to take her hand Mad. Valdoza enters C 
from L, and comes between. 

Mad. V. Never ! Rather than accept the sacrifice, I would 
go and labor in the 'fields ; rather than see her your wife I 
would lay her dead at my feet. 

Nad. Mother ! 

Mad. V. Hush, child. Come what may, with one sacred 
memory, one chain of love between us, will live and die 
together. 

Green. You will not let her be my wife ; then her father will. 

Mad. V. Her father ! 

Green. Yis, my lady. When you gave your son into that 



IN THE TRENCHES. 35 

peasant's hands you took his daughter in exchange. Nadina is 
that daughter. Here is the document that proves it. 

Nad. No ! no ! 

Mad. V. This is one of the very papers that help to prove 
Paul beyond a doubt to be my son. You have overreached 
yourself, Mr. Green. Her father is dead. 

Green. No ; he is alive. 

Nad. {screams aiid falls on her knees). No ! no ! you will 
have pity — mercy I 

Mad. V. You will not enforce this claim ? 

Green. I will— I do. {Calls.) Jose Estrada ! 

Enter Jose and two Servants, c. from r. 

Nad. Oh, sir, have you no human feeling in your heart ! 

Grean. The one human feeling in my heart is my love for 
you. Jose Estrada, is this your child. 

Jose, {tip C). I have but one child ? 

Green (R.)- And she ? 

Jose. And she is there — Nadina, my child. 

Nad. (L. c). Ah ! 

Green. Take away your child. 

Jose. Come ! 

Nad. Oh, mercy ! Look at my mother. She has lost her 
son, and in this great unpitying world has no one but me. We 
are two weak, defenceless woman. Oh ! are you human ? 
Are you a man ? 

Green. Go with your father ! 

Nad. Never! {Drum roll ; rushing up). Ah! 

Green. You have no hope, no chance. Paul is dead; you 
are mine. 

Enter Paul, in officer's tmiform, Q..fro77i l. 

Paul (C). No, alive, and Nadina's mine. 

[Mad. V. and Nadina rush to his artns. 

Mad. V. Tell, my boy, how you were saved ? 

Paul. After the return charge of the Spaniards in which you 
were captured and I shot, I was found by a body of our troops 
with so little life in me that I was laid for burial, and my name was 
sent in amongst the list of killed ; but I was found at the last 
moment by the Calonel, to whom I owe my life, and who in the 
crisis of my danger, nursed me back to life with a woman's 
gentleness. My father ! 

Enter Colonel Edwards, c. from r. 

Mad. V. (L.). The Colonel ! 

Col. (L. C). Catherine, you told me to bring you back your 
son and he is there. We are not youthful lovers now, and in 



36 IN THE TRENCHES. • 

the vale of life the best word the human heart can learn 
is " Forget." 

Mad. V. " And P^orgive." {She gives her hand,) You give 
me back my son, take back my love. 

Col. I now see the injustice 1 have done the lad. He's a 
fine fellow. I have but one regret — one cloud ; the spy's papers 
found in his possession ; and I have promised the day he proves 
his innocence 1 will acknowledge him as my son. 

Mad. V. And Vk'hy not now ? 

Col. Because there is still a cloud upon his honor, and until 
it is cleared I cannot hold out my hand to him and say, " Paul, 
my son." 

Paul (R. c., /.:; Green, r.). Now I will deal with you. 

Green. (R. H.). Wid me ? And who the divil are you .'' 

Paul. (R. c.). Paul Edwards, the heir to the Romero estate 
and to this property. 

Green. Ha ! ha ! You have no proof at all. 

Mrs. V. But I have one. {Producing paper.) For this very 
deed by which you would make Nad'ina yours proves Paul to be 
my son. 

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Bullheimer, r. i e. 

Paul. Do you deny that I am Paul Edwards ? 

Green. I do. 

Paul. You cannot d'eny the authority of this document, 
which proves my mother's story. 

Green. No ! no ! But you cannot prove that you are that 
son. That paper proves nothing. 

Col. {iiaving read the paper). True! For this paper only 
proves that your son was a male, and at his birth was exchanged 
for a female child, the daughter of Jose Estrada. This is no 
proof that you, Paul, are that child. 

Green {crossing to l.). Ha ! ha ! but you have no proof 
of that. 

Bull. (R. C). No, they haven't, but I have. 

All. You ! 

Bull. And here it is. {Gives paper to Paul.) Signed by 
Mr. Davis, properly attested, and proving you, with the other 
document, to be, beyond a doubt, Paul Edwards, And more — 
Jose Estrada confessed to me that this girl, Nadina, was not 
his daughter, but the daughter of his brother. 

Green. Ah ! Traitor ! 

Bull. Square as we go. This is the plumber's bill. 

Green. Oh ! If I had your heart in my hand, your head 
under my heel ! 

Paul. Now, Mr. Green, we will settle up. These two 
documents were stolen from my tent, and the hand that stole 



IN THE TRENCHES. ^"f 

them was the spy's — yours was the hand, and you the traitor. 
Here is the envelope. It has been opened and resealed. This 
is not my seal. 

Green. Not yours. Who's then ? 

Paul. Whose ? {Comes dowti to Green, l., and suddenly 
breaks oj- seal from his watch chain and compares it with 
packet.) Why, yours. {Chord.) Mr. Green. See the traitor. 

Col. It is so beyond a doubt. Paul, my son, your hand. 

Paul. Father ! 

G-reen {aside). I've got into hot water, begorra, and it begins 
to boil. 

Col. (R. c.) So you were the traitor then, eh ? 

Green. I and me partner — let him share the honor, for we 
share as we go. 

Col. No. FTJr in consideration of his services his life will 
be spared. 

Bull. (R. C). Good-bye, Green ; we have rowed in the same 
boat, but we sha'n't be hanged by the same rope. 

Mrs. B. (R.) Now we will return to Milwaukee. 

Bull. Only, no plumbers, mind. 

Green. Still, you have not conquered ; we are in Santiago, 
under the protection of the Spanish flag — you cannot touch me 
here. [Music. Military band. Piano, and worked up forte. 

Col. You are mistaken, Mr. Green', the Spanish kept you 
prisoners in the house so that you should not learn the truth. 
The Americans are in possession of the city. 

[Crosses to Mad. V., l. 

Green {crossing c). But not of this house. The servants 
are all Spanish, devoted to my interest, and your lives are at 
my mercy. Jose ! Jose ! Now is your time for vengeance. 

[Paul and Nadina throwing open large window at back, 
the bayofiets and colors are marching past, as in Act 
I. As Green rushes to c, to l., calling. Murphy and 
two Soldiers enter and handcuff him quickly. 

Col. Ha ! ha ! too late. 

Paul {at windotu, c). For the American flag waves over 
Santiago. [As the bayonets and colors pass the window, the 

march is forte. 

Bayonets and colors. 

Paul, on steps at window , c. 

Nadina. Murphy, 

Jose Estrada, Green, Two Soldiers, 

Mrs. Bullheimer, Colonel, 

Bullheimer. Mad. V. 

CURTAIN. 



NEiAZ: RLHVS. 



THE BOHEMIANS. 

A Comedy in Three Acts. 
By E. J. COWLEY. 

Eight male and four female characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, easy-, 
an Interior and an exterior — not elaborate. This is a piece in an attractive, 
light-comedy vein with a strong sympathetic interest and great dramatic strength. 
Its scenes and characters strongly suggest those of " Trilby," which, however, it 
resembles only in that it concerns itself also with art and artists. Jack Brandt 
is an admirable heroic part ; Madge, a strong lead ; Bertie Follet and Blanche, 
very "up-to-date" light comedy; Dale, Smiley and Freddy Sproul, a good 
group. Noel (heavy) and Mrs. Van Slick (character) both good. A strong piece 
for a good company, in its unusual combination of lightness and strength. Plays 
a full evening. 

Pjfice . . . 16 cents. 

Synopsis. 

Act I.— Poverty. Jack's studio. Freddie's flowers. The Bohemians. Mirth 
and music. Jack and Noel. The busy bee. A windfall. The pangs of poverty. 
" The dream of my life." Madge's love affair. An advance agent. The dawn of 
prosperity. " The noble stranger." Jack's sacrifice. The legacy. Luck at last. 

Act II. — liiches. A little cloud. "That horrid pipe." Mrs. Van Slick 
and the Major. An up-to-date engagement. The deceived dude. A cooling 
heart. Madge, the tom-boy. The Major's advice. Madge's discovery. " Forgive 
me. Jack ; I might have known." The Bohemians again. Noel drops the mask. 
" I am the master here." Jack's dog. Disowned. Jack's word. "From this 
moment we are strangers." 

Act III. — Poverty again. The studio. Freddie and his sixteen-pounder. 
Back to the old home. Madge's surprise. Jack's reward. Noel's claim. " The 
past is at an end." " Take me. Jack, for it is you I love." The Bohemians once 
more. " Blessed are the poor." 



RODNEY'S RESTAURANT. 

A FARCE IN One Act. 
By F. E. HILAND, 

Author of "The Old Country Store," "A Town Meeting," 
" Careless Cupid," " Captain Swell," etc. 

Four male and two female characters. Scene, a plain room ; costumes, 
modern and eccentric. An admirable farce, thoroughly American and modern 
in its humor. An Irishman, a Western desperado, a dude and an old maid are 
mingled in a side-splitting fabric of fun lasting twenty minutes. This piece is 
strono-ly recommended to those who want good broad humor and lots of it. 
It Is not a school or parlor piece. 

Price .... 15 cents. 



A NEW FARCE COMEDY. 



THE WIDOW FROM THE WEST. 

A Farce Comedy in Three acts. 

By HILTON COON. 

Five male, three female characters. Scene, an easy interior, the same for 
all three acts; costumes, modern and eccentric. SUhis piece, which was success- 
fully presented for a season by the Don C. Hall Comedy Company, touring the 
Western States, is a farce comedy of the irresponsible school founded by Air. 
Hoyt. Depeuding largely for its fun upon the contributions of individual 
humor of its players, it reciprocates by supplying a strong, if loosely woven, 
fabric of plot which can be embroidered with '"specialties" to any extent. 
Plot is not usually a strong point in such pieces, but " The Late Mrs. Early," as 
it has also been called, provides quite enough to carry the interest of the per- 
formance successfully. The piece has plenty of incident and " business," and 
room for much more, and its characters ijrovide an excellent basis for clever 
comedians to build " hits " upon. Not recommended for schools or church per- 
formance, as it is essentially theatrical in character. 

Price 15 Cents. 



SYNOPSIS. 

ACT I. — The "Weeping Willow Hotel. Indis Guys, the detective. Back 
from Ivlondike. "After the ball." The old maid's visit. A clever scheme. 
The Widow from the West. " If I was n't a married man." The rivals. A tele- 
gram. Sick abed. . Angelina arrives. 

ACT II. — The two nurses. Sassafras tea. The bell-boy. Touched for two 
hundred. "Charge it in the bill." The red silk stocking. The detective again. 
"No one has ever seen my face." A noted criminal. Touched again. " Dis- 
charging" the boarders. "Ephesus, you have deceived me." Angelina defied. 

ACT III.— "One-eyed Eddie." The French maid. The widow and the de- 
tective. Knit vs Nit. "O Dusty! this is so sudden." A clock in a fit. The 
haunted house. Touched again. More fits. "Just like a man's beard." Caught 
at last. The telegram, " What's the ditf — I've got on pants?" Angelina abol- 
ished. 



AN ENQAQINQ POSITION. 

A Comedy in Two Acts. 

By LEWIS E. MACBRAYNE. 

Three male, thi-ee female characters. A briskly and humorously written 
little comedy, with an ingenious plot, full of ludicrous situations. A society 
piece, admirably adapte 1 for amateur performance, and callitg for pretty 
though not elaborate stage settings, and handsome modern costuming, morning 
and evening dress. Its story concerns a young society man, who, by a series of 
mist'ikes, bee )mes engaged to three young ladies at one tinie — a somewhat try- 
ing and diflScult position, the solution of which is ingeniously accomplished Avith 
most amusing results. An excellent piece, and a sure hit m the proper hands. 

Price 15 Cents. 



Sent, postpaid, 071 receipt of price, by 

BAKER, 5 HAMILTON PLACE, BOSTON, MASS. 



A NEW CUBAN PLAY. 



THE ROUGH RIDER. 

A Drama in Four Acts. 

By BERNARD F. HOORE. 

Seven male, two female characters. Costumes modern and military; sce- 
nery easy but etlective. This piece, reflecting as it does the current patriotic 
sentiment and dealiug with the scenes and incidents of the late war, is likely to 
be very popular with amateur clubs thisseason. The attempt has been made in 
it to construct an effective play, providing stirring pictures and situations, in- 
spiring patriotic sentiment, and recalling familiar incidents of the war, without 
the use of supernumeraries or the need of elaborate scenery or properties. 
Better plays, no doubt, can be written, but better plays for the use of amateurs, 
bearing in mind theirartistic limitations and the diflBculties offered by elaborate 
scenery and groupings, are not often to be had. A small cast, strongly marked 
characters, Negro and Irish comedy parts, rapid movement and strong lines 
unite to recommend this piece, which plays about two hoiirs. 

Price 15 Cents. 



SYNOPSIS. 

ACT I.— War clouds. The new overseer. Father and son. The blowing- 
up of the "Maine." A glimpse into the past. A scheme of revenge. An Irish- 
man's courtship. Nigger f.s". Irish. A serious question. A declaration of love 
and another of war. The call for volunteers, "Take that, you Spanish dog!" 
The first bl ow for the freedom of Cuba. 

ACT II.— S^irgeant Kafferty. The "Rough Riders. Alma in danger. The 
Cuban spy. A letter. Sam and Dennis. "Chickens, or I'm a liar!" A meet- 
ing. News from Manila. Traitors in camp. Danger. The poisoned water. 
Tbeabduc ion. " We'll save him or die in the attempt!" 

ACT III. — In a Spanisli prison. A black angel. Explanations. Planning 
an escape. TlieviHain shows Lis hand. A forced marriage. "Remember! a 
Spaniard never f )rc?ets." The Cuban spy again. The bombardment of Santiago, 
Laying low. The marriage ceremony. The tables turned. " There's one blow 
for the Stars and Stripes." The fall of Santiago. 

ACT IV.— Peace once mor«, A mysterious stranger. Suspicions. The 
Spanish kidnapper. Senor P<^fferty's proposal. A ct)lored " best man." The 
broken dishes. Throwing oft the mask. " I am no servant." In the nick of 
time. Rescued. A cowardly trick. " Pedro, you have saved my life." 



AN OPEN SECRET. 

A Farce in Two Acts. 

FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS ONLY. 

By HARION D. CAflPBELL. 

As originally presented by the Emmanuel Club, Radeliffe College, Cam- 
bridge. Ten female characters. Costumes, outing dresses; scene, a college 
room. A particularly bright and vivacious little glimpse of college life, pre- 
senting a pH.rticularly humorons and characteristic story with much vigor and 
skill. A brand new plot in a piece for female characters only is something of a 
rarity, but the author has hit upon something absolutely novfel in this piece, 
and full of incidental humor and interest. Strongly recommended. 

Price . , 15 Cents. 



Sent postpaid, on receipt of price, by 

BAKER, 5 HAMILTON PLACE, BOSTON, MASS. 



A NEW COriEDY, 



A GILDED YOUTH. 

A Comedy in Three Acts. 

By CHARLES TOWNSEND. 

Originally produced under the title of "Moses." Three male, two female charac- 
ters. Scenery, three easy interiors; cotsumes, modern. This piece, originally pro- 
duced by the author and employed by him for several seasons as part of his repertoire, 
provides for a full evening's entertainment and yet calls for but five characters, li is 
unique in this particular, and meets a want often felt by small professional companies as 
well as by amateurs. J t naturally follows that every part is an important one, since so 
few people are required to carry the interest of the piece, which is second to none of the 
author's extensive list, and possesses to the full those qualities of briskness, bustle, wit, 
humor, and "go" which constitute his professional trademark. Its story is neces- 
sarily a slender one, but it is complicated with an unusual wealth of humorous incident 
and ludicrous situation, and its action never flags for an instant. An "all star" com- 
edy for low comedian, "touch and go" light comedian, old man, old maid, and sou- 
brette. Strongly recommended. 

Price 25 Cents. 



SYNOPSIS. 

ACT I. — Time, a midsummer afternoon. Long Branch. A romantic maiden. The 
Colonel gets news. Sam and Sadie. The pitcher of milk and the tale of a cat. Aunt 
Sadie's " nerves." Moses! A case of mix. Sam gains a promise. Trouble threatened. 
Trouble comes. A grand smash. 

ACT II.— Five minutes later. Sam's letter. Law and love. Sadie's suggestions. 
The " Slugger." Sam on his muscle. Moses and the Colonel. More mistakes. " Set- 
tled out of court." The broken promise. Moses a wreck. " I want revenge." A joint- 
stock love-letter. Sam's device. Aunt Sadie sees a chance at last. Sam reads the Riot 
Act. Comical climax. 

ACT III. — An hour later. At the Colonel's. Aunt Sadie grows impatient. Moses 
more mystified. Sam talks politics with the usual result. The Colonel on the warpath. 
Sadie's scheme. " Back me up now." The storm approaches. A cyclone — of fun. 
Sam's triumph. " After the storm, a calm." 



A Novelty in Entertainments. 



APOLLO'S ORACLE. 

By ESTHER B. TIFFANY. 

An entertainment in one act. This novel entertainment is admirably adapted for 
summer theatricals at hotels or country-houses, not only because it requires no scenery 
and calls for Greek costumes only, which are easily arranged, but because its fun de- 
pends as much upon the audience as upon the actors. Two ladies and one boy are le- 
quired for its representation, and any number of girls for chorus. Complete with music. 

Price 15 Cents. 



Sent, fflsfpaid, ojt receipt of price, by 

BAKER, 5 HAMILTON PLACE, BOSTON, MASS. 



NEinZ: PLKVS. 



A RIVAL BY REQUEST. 

A Comedy in Three Acts. 

By B. L. C. GRIFFITH. 

Author of "A Bachelor's Divorce." 

Six male and five female characters. Costumes, modern and appropriate ; 
scenery, two interiors. This is a comedy with an exceptionally well-constructed 
and interesting p'ot, abundant incident, and an unusual variety of character and 
humor. Its misunderstandings are ingenious and unforced and extremely laugh- 
able, and Pierson's confusion of Lord Anthony McMullin and Alexander Mug- 
gins, a source of unfailing mirth. In its well-marked contrasts and uniformly 
strong character it offers a peculiarly advantageous vehicle for the talent of a 
good amateur club. Plays two hours and a half without a dull moment. The 
dialogue is particularly rapid and brilliant. 

Price .... 15 cents. 

Synopsis. 

Act I. — Pierson and the cornet. Getting out of an engagement. The Briggs 
family. Smythe's English valet. On the move. Muggins. The lord or the 
lackey. Briggs and the bargain counter. Lord McMullin. A sad mistake. 
Love at first sight. The new boarders. The plot thickens. A crisis. Engaged 
to two women at once. Bad for Pierson. 

Act II. - Cutting the knot. A useless servant. A lord for a lover. More 
misunderstandings. Briggs' nightmare. Nobody's fool. The ladies combine. 
Husbands on strike. Defiance. Briggs and the ballet. A three-cornered row. 
Pierson explains. The two McMuUins. Revelations. A broken engagement. 
Anoth*^r. Worse for Pierson. 

Act hi. — Pierson in a plight. The two B's on a bat. "It's our wives' 
fault." An artful stratagem. The telegram. A plot that didn't work. Fixing 
it up. Muggins on thin ice. The two fianc<^es. Smythe's return. McMullin's 
restoration to the nobility. Worst for Pierson. Explanations. A show of hands. 
Pairing off. Muggins goes back to private life. The band plays " Annie Laurie." 



THE REVOLVING WEDGE. 

A Football Romance in One Act. 
By THORNTON M. WARE and GEORGE P. BAKER. 

Five male and three female characters. Costumes and scenery very simple. 
A capital farce, particularly adapted for Thanksgiving Day performances. Its 
excellent and original plot cleverly utilizes the universal mania for football, and 
builds up from this foundation an admirable f)rogression of incidents leading to 
a mo?t laughable conclusion. Its method will at once suggest that of the popu- 
lar "Obstinate Family," and it can be safely recommended to any one who has 
liked that piece. Plays nearly an hour. 

Price .... 15 cents. 



NEW PLAYS. 



New Hampshire Gold. 

A COMEDY-DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. 
By KATHERINE E. RAND. 

Eight male, six female characters. Scenery easily arranged; costumes, 
modern. An excellent piece, interesting in story, and full of shrewd and humor- 
ous character. It has a strong meloilramatic interest, but its general atmoP])here 
is homely and domestic, placing it in the class of plays to which "The Old Home- 
stead " belongs. It provides some capital parts, bolii serious and humorous, and 
is well suited for the simplest conditions under which amateur J heatricals are 
given. Printed from an acting copy which has been successfully performed. 
Plays two hours. 

Price, 15 Cents. 



SYNOPSIS. 

ACT I. At the Gerrishes. The thirst of gold. " A poor fool." David and 
Daisv. Lessons in flirtation. The laziest man on the farm. Putting out the fire. 
Tlie iand.«lide. The speculator from Boston. An old fox. The gold mine. "I'm 
delerniined to marry a very rich man." The partnership. David's refusal. 

ACT II. The mortgage. Christie's misgivings. Salting the mine. The lost 
letter. ''The Boston feller." Mauds 's paper dolly. A clue. To the mine. 
" Whatever It is, Christie Gerrish is goni' to be in it." Caught in the hct. Dis- 
sembling. The si)eculator's revenge. Daisy's interrupted vow. The awful tid- 
ings Daisy true jjold. "I don't care if it's ten thousand nights; let me go. 
mother, let me go ! " 

ACT III. The dead speculator. The convalescent. "As cross as two 
sticks" A lost meuiory. Jack and Daisy. A misunderstanding. The Colonel's 
daughter. '• That letter." Gid and Bijah. A thunderstorm, Avhich clears the 
air. The crisis. David's sacrifice. " I've never been able to remember anythiig 
about it." The mortgage. The debt paid. "I am the lichest man in the 
world." 



A Teli-Tale Eyebrow- 

A COMEDY IN TWO ACTS. 

By ESTHER B. TIFFANY. 

Author of "A Rice Pudding," "A IModel Lovek," Etc. 

Two male, four female characters. Scenery, an eisy interior ; costumrs, 
modern and elegant. Avery pretty and gra'-eful little piece of healthy senti- 
ment and refiufd humor, perfectly adai t^d tor amateur performers and ajipeal 
iiig to the best taste in such matters. In story and treatiuent alike, this latest 
piece is agreeably characteristic of the author of " A Rice Pudding," and can 
hardly fail to please the taste t "* wliich that popular piece so successfully 
appealed. Pla} s an hour and a quarter. 

Price, . . . . , 15 Cents. 






NEW ENTERTAINMENTS. 



BLIGHTED BUDS. 

A. Karce in: One; Act. 

By JULIA DE W. ADDISON, 

Author of " A False Note," "Under a Spell," Etc. 

Four ni{}le and four female characters. Costumes, modern ; scene, a garden. 
An excellent farce of the more r« lined type, full of fun, but never broad or 
boisterous in its humor. John Sniiih, an enterprising drummer, Prof. Palman, 
a timid scientist, Pat and Katy, Irish servants, and Drusilla Durham, a seutii 
mental spinster, are all capital parts. Strongly recommended. 

Price . . . . 15 cents. 



The Grand Baby Show. 

An Enterxainnient eor. Little Kolkis. 

WRITTEN AXD ORIGINALLY PRODUCED BY THE 

SISTERS OF MERCY, 

MERIDEN, CONN. 

For one boy and from ten to twenty-five little girls. This is a platform enter- 
tainment, no scenery being necessary, and the costumes are very easily arranged. 
Tlie idea and action of the piece are sufficiently indicated by its title. It Avas 
highly successful in its original performance by the Sisters of Mercy, Meriden, 
I'Jonn., and is recommended on this ground as well as for the novelty of the idea. 
It is presented partly in dialogue, but largely in choruses, and the original music, 
complete, accompanies the songs. A very pretty march is an effective incident 
of the piece. An excellent children's entertainment. 

Price . . . . 15 cents. 



The New Woman. 

A. KarcicaIv Sketch. 
With One Act, One Scene and One Purpose. 
By GEORGE RUGG. 

One male and three female characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, very 
simple. This is a bright and up-to-date little skit upon a very old subject that 
never ceases to be entertaining. "The New Woman" is put through a few 
modern paces with amusing results. Plays only fifteen minutes. 

Prf , 15 cents. 



NE5n£ F=I_rtYS. , 

QUITS. 

A Comedy in One Act. 
By ABBIE FARWELL BROWN. 

iVo male and tliree female characters. Costumes, modem ; scene, an easy 
interior. This is a " college " play, the scene being laid at White Elms Semi- 
nary, and the story a brisk account of what might easily have happened there 
between a couple of larky Harvard seniors and their sweethearts, while trying 
lo outwit the stern old GriflSn of the establishment. Full of movement, vivacity 
aj^-i interest. Perfectly easy to play and full of entertainment. Adapted to 
•^ flor or hall. Plays forty-five minutes. 

Price .... 15 cents. 



CAPTAIN SWELL. 

A Negro Farce in Two Scenes. 
By F. E. HILAND. 

Author of " A Town Meeting," " Rodney's Restaurant,'* etc. 

Five male and two female characters. Scenes, a street and an interior. 
Costumes, eccentric. A vei-y funny piece with lots of character and incident, 
illustrating a phase of the struggle between " capital and labor." Sambo, Swell's 
servant, is a capital low-comedy part ; Dusty and Seedy, two * bums," are good 
bits, and Swell, his wife, daughter and her dude lover, a good comedy group. 
Plays fifteen minutes. 

Price . • » . 15 cents. 



CARELESS CUPID. 

A Negro Farce in One Act. 
By F. E. HILAND. 

Author of "The Old Country Store," "The Lady Lawyer," etc. 

Three male and two female characters. Scene, a plain interior ; costumes, 
eccentric. This is an amusing piece, full of " business " and comic incident. It 
can be played with Avhite faces and one negro low-comedy character (Cupid), or 
all black faces, as preferred. Plays twenty minutes. 

Price .... 15 cents. . 



NEini F»L75VS F^OR OIF2L-S. 

THE MAN IN THE CASE. 

A Comedy in Three Acts. 

By WINTHROP PACKARD. 



Six female characters. Costumes, modern ; scenes, two interiors. Another 
good answer to the old question, " How can we get up a play without any men?" 
This piece provides a story of considerable interest and dramatic strength, and 
even a mild love-interest, without the employment of any mule characters. Its 
humor is refined, its dialogue bright, and its plot absolutely new and unlike 
other pieces of this sort. Written for and originally produced by the Emmanuel 
Club, of Radcliffe College, it is naturally well suited for performance in similar 
institutions. Madame Bogusky, an esoteric Buddhist, Alice Roquet, a transla- 
tion into the French, and Gladys, a Radcliffe Senior, are excellent parts. 

Price .... 95 cents. 

Synopsis. 

Act I. — Aline, the French-Irish maid. A new phrase — "wirrasthrue ! " 
The love-lorn maid. " Her Jack." Consulting the Mahatmas. Two Radcliife 
seniors. Common sense vs. Theosophy. A girl's remedy. Madame Bogusk> 
and the cosmic cycles. Another Jack. ''Everybody's Jack." Jacks are 
Trumps. 

Act II. — The ladies' department. A messenger from India. More about 
Jack. Going to Harvard. Cap and gown. " The ghost-letter." A great (astral) 
light breaks upon xMrs. Montressor. Following suit. "Thim fancy shrouds." 
Jacks are Trumped. 

Act III. — Radclitfe dormitory. A college girl's room. A strange man. 
Aline's arrival. The power of the Mahatmas. An elopemenit. " A pad for 
red ink." Fumigation. Ominous "signs." The search. " The real Mr. Wil- 
liams." Explanations. Jack takes the Trick. 



COUSIN FRANK. 

A Farce in One Act. 
By FRANCES AYflAR MATHEWS, 

Author of " A Finished Coquette," "Wooing a Widow," etc. 

Five female characters. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy interior, or 
none at all. A bright little piece, treating the old problem of " An Adamless 
Eden " in a new way. It has an entertaining story and bright and vivacious 
dialogue, which cannot fail to give twenty minutes of pleasure in parlor or hall. 

Price .... 16 centa. 



NEW ENTERTAINMENTS. 



THE BOOK OF DRILLS. 

I^ARX III. 

A series of entertainments for parlor or hall by Mary B. Horne, autlior of. 
"Thk Book of Drills," Parts I and II; "The Peak Sisters," "Prof, 
Baxter's Great Ixventiox," etc. 

rrico, 30 Centsl 

CONTENTS. 

Looking Backward 1)hjll 

/'or ri(/ht2>(^r/ormers, ladies or gentlemen, or both. 

Living Ad VERTiSK.MENT.s . . , For a large number of perfoj^viers. 

The D wakes' ])a>'ce . For four to eight hoj/.t. 

Gdlliver and the LiLiruTiANS UP to Date . . . For fen boys. 



THE BOOK OF DRILLS. 

PART IV. 

A series of entertainments for parlor, stage or lawn by Margaret 
Fezandie, Mrs. L. K. Rogers and Nellie E. Case. 

Price, 30 Cents. 

CONTENTS. 

The Tennis Drill For sixteen girls. 

The SoAi'-BunuLE Drill For s'xtcen girls. 

The Harvesters For eight girls and eight boys. 

The Bread- AN D-MiLK Drill .... For very little children. 



A PAIR OF LUNATICS. 

A DRAMATIC SKETCH IN ONE SCENE. 
By W. R. WALKES. 

For one lady an.l one gentleman. A clever and amusing little piece, suitable 
for stage or platform. Requires no scenery, and plays about twenty minutes, 

Price 15 CentB, 



TRF MAr^T^TP ATF I a Farce in Three Acts. By Arthur W. 
X X li^ iyLr\.\Jl^ 1 ivfl. 1 !:.♦ [ pij,ebo. Twelve male, four female char- 

acters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, all 

interior. The merits of this excellent and amusing piece, one of the most popu- 
lar of its author's plays, are well attested by long and repeated runs in the 
principal American theatres, it is of the highest class of dramatic writing, and 
is uproariously funny, and at the same time unexceptionable in tone. Its entire 
suitability for amateur performance has been shown by hundreds of such pro- 
ductions from majiuscript during the past three years. Plays two hours and 
a half. (1892.) 



THE NOTORIOUS 
MRS, EBBSMITH, 



A Drama in Four Acts. By Arthur W. 
PiNER<i. Eight male and five female charac- 
ters ; scenery, all interiors. This is a " prob- 
lem " play continuing the series to which " The 
Profligate " and "The Second Mrs. Tanquerav" 
belong, and while strongly dramatic, and intensely interesting is not suited for 
amateur performance. It is recommended for Reading Clubs. (1895.) 

'T'TJfp PPOPTTr'AT'F I A Play in Four Acts. By Arthur W. PiXE- 
■*■ *^-*-" X xvvyrirfXvJxV ^ xi* I j^q^ seven male and five female characters. 

^ Scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate ; 

costumes, modern. This is a piece of serious interest, powerfully dramatic in 
movement, and tragic in its event. An admirable play, but not suited for ama- 
teur performance, (1892.) 



Farce in Three Acts. By Arthur 
PiJJERO. Nine male, seven fe- 
lale characters. Costumes, mod- 
ern ; scenery, three interiors, easily arranged. This ingenious and laughable 
farce was pfayed by Miss liosiua Vdkes during her last season in America with 
great success! Its plot is amusing, its action rapid and full of incident, its dia- 
logue brilliant, and its scheme of character especially rich in quaint and humor- 
ous types. The Hon. VereQueckett and Peggy are especially strong. The piece 
is in all respects suitable for amateurs. (1894.) 



THE SECOND 
MRS. TANQUERAY. 



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A Play in Four Acts. By Arthttr W. 
Pi>'ERO. Eight male and five female char- 
acters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three 
interiors. This well-known and powerful 
play is not well suited for amateur per- 
formance. It is offered to Mr. Pinero's admirers among the reading public in 
answer to the demand which its wide discussion as an acted play has created. 
(1894.) Also in Cloth, $1.00. 



W. PiXKRO. Seven male and four female 
characters. Scene, a single interior, the 
same for all three acts ; costumes, modern and fashionable. This well known 
and popular piece is admirably suited to amateur players, by whom it has been 
often given during tlie last few years. Its story is strongly sympathetic, and its 
comedy interest abundant and strong. (1893.) 

THE TnVTFS I a comedy in Four Acts. By Arthur W. Pinero. Six 
■*•■»"'-• ■*• Axvxx-rtj* I j^^a^ig r^y^^[ seven female characters. Scene, a single ele- 

; ; gant interior ; costumes, modern and fashionable. An 

entertaining piece, of strong dramatic interest and admirable satirical humor. 

(1892.) 

T'HF "VHCrP" A TTTTP ^TTV I a Comedy in Three Acts. By Arthur 
XAXX.. wx^xvtvjjax O i:./V, W. Pinero. Eight male and eight female 
~ — , characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 

two interiors, not difficult. This very amusing comedy was a popular feature of 
the renertoire of Mv. and Mrs. Kendal m this covmtry. It presents a plot of 
strong dramatic interest, and its incidental satire of""AVoman's Rights'* em- 
ploys some admirnbly humorous characters, and inspires many very clever lines. 
Its leading characters are unusually even in strength and prominence, which 
makes it a very satisfactory piece for amateurs. (1894.) 



.'^' 



>g'>g «^'>g '> g'^"^ LIBRARY ntr ^^ 
^^^^?^^^ , °J^^^^^^ CONGRESS 

NEW OPERETTAS 



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Words by MARGARET FEZANDIE and EDGAR MORETTE. 
Music by EUGENE FEZANDIE, Jr. 



EDITH'S uRIi-^Til 

an ©pcrctta for €|)tltirnx, ^P 

I 

t 



Eleven characters, girls an<l l^oys, or all girls, as preferred ; ten or more aHdi- 
tl<»ii;il tur cliorns. Scenery unnecessary; co!<tiinies, pretty and fanciful, luit 
easiiy arranged at honje. This adinirabie little j>i':".e is printed complete villi 
music. It is very tuneful and gracefully iiuiigined, and is strongly recoiiuneuded 
for private tlieatricals or for scIiomIs. It is jiarticidarly well suited for the latter 
use, as it deals whimsically with the question of youthful study, inculcating, 
however, a« excellent moral. 



Price 



35 cents. 



ODD OPERASMEVENTIDE. | 

'if/ 



A Collection of Short and Simple Musical 
Entertainments for Children. 



By MRS. G. N, EORDMAN. 



This collection provides a simple operetta, a fairy opera, f> pictiiTesqir 
song, ;i (juaint musical pMit«»mime, a pretty musical sl<etcli, and two 
hwmoroug recitations for <hiMren,cotnplete, with allthemnsi 



ne motion 

original 

md fullinxtruc- 



tioiis for ^tertVjrmance. The music is tuneful :uul simple, ami i8 Si)ecially writteu 
with the tastes a«<l liniitations of children in view. The solos are easily learned 
and sung, and all the choruses are written for v<»iees in ujdson. The collection 
is strongly rec.onimen<led f()r its simplicity and perfect practicability. Neither 
stage nor "scenery is ihMn-un^ed, nor any other reqtiirements that cannot be met 
without trouhlehy theequionient of the ordinary bailor eUurch vestry, and. the 
Keal of the iuoi$t econoniicul oonnnitteo of arrangements. 



Price 



CONTENTS. 



60 c-enU. 



A Glimpse of the Brownies, A 

Musical Sketch tor Childieu. Any 
number of boys. 

Market D;«y. A n Operetta for Young 
People, iieveii speaking parts and 
chorus. 

Queen Flora's I>ay Dream. An 

Operetta for Children. Six speak- 
ing parts and clioriis. 



Tlxe Boatlnj* Party. A Musical 
Sketch for Little Children, Thirty 
boys and girls. 

Six IJttle Grandmas. A Musical 
Pan>omin«e for very L<ittle Children. 
Six very little girls. 

Jimmy Crow. A Recitation for a 
lattle Girl. 

A House in the Moon. A Recita- 
tion for a Child, 



8. J. PARKHiLi. *. CO., pniNTKns. aosTON. y.s. 



